Something New
by Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
Summary: Dylan helps Marco finally come to a secure point in his life, even if he's not sure he's ready. Meanwhile, Ellie finds help from an unlikely source. In each chapter there will be a journal entry from one of the characters.
1. Some Things are Hard to Say

**Something New**   
  
**A/N:** This story is about mainly focused on Marco and Dylan, but it will also revolve around the other characters as well. In each chapter there will be a journal entry, mainly Marco's, but a few from Ellie, Spinner, and Paige or anyone else as well. Yes, so, enjoy! And please review.   
  
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**[Journal entry 1]  
Marco del Rossi**   
  
So Ms. Kwan assigned us a journal. Fifteen minutes a day, three days a week. I can handle that. I just don't know what to write. I guess the most obvious thing would be my revelation. That I, Marco del Rossi, am gay. Over the past few weeks, it's gotten much easier to say. That one sentence may be the hardest one I will ever have to write or even say, but I can now do it, with confidence. I just have to watch who I say it to.   
  
For example: I haven't told my parents yet. I know what you're thinking (or at least what you _would_ be thinking if you didn't happen to be an inanimate object). They should have been the first ones I told. It's just . . . I don't know, I can't. What if they're disappointed in me? My mama once told me no matter what I do, they'd always love me. But I don't know if that extended to this.   
  
I know one thing for sure - my brother Carlos wouldn't understand. When we first moved here, he started laughing at a kid who lived on our street and calling him a "big homo". I didn't understand then, but I do now. I just told him it was a free country, and went back to playing soccer. Carlos started laughing at me, too.   
  
Now trust me, I know what the definition of 'gay' is. A guy, like me, likes other guys. Right? So why is it all so . . . difficult? I mean, I could probably write a five-page entry on Dyl -- a guy I like. But what good would that do?   
  
I have ten minutes left. This is going to be harder than I thought.   
  
One thing I did learn this year (see, Ms. Kwan? I actually _do_ listen in class!) is to write what you know. Which is why I'm sure Spinner's having a difficult job completing this assignment. Haha. Anyway, what I know is: soccer, break-dancing, gardening, and cooking. But what do you write about that? My mama's the best cook around and someday I'll have my own show on a cooking channel, in the meantime I'll be playing professional soccer, I could break-dance for extra cash, and with all my money buy myself a personal garden.   
  
There, I wrote what I know - and I **still** have four minutes left. Fine, I'll write about him.   
  
Dylan Michalchuk. Grade 12. Older brother of Paige. Great eyes, great hair. And completely uninterested in me. He's a fantastic hockey player. He completely dominates on the ice and . . . now I'm rambling.   
  
I can't believe you, Ms. Kwan, are going to be reading everything I just wrote. It's kind of nice, though, having a journal. Okay, great. Times up. Until later.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
Marco picked up the journal, not bothering to reread it or check for errors, and closed the cover. He was finally finished with all of his homework, and it was almost time for bed. Without much to do, he stood and walked over to his computer, logging on to his messenger.   
  
His eyes merely scanned the list, but when he saw a certain name his heart skipped a beat. Should he talk to him? Or maybe he would say something first. Just when his courage was worked up and he was right about to send him a message, another message popped up:   
  
**NOLabels:** Hey Marco! Finish the journal assignment??   
  
He smiled at Ellie's message, and hurriedly typed his reply.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Of course. What about you?   
  
**NOLabels:** yup just now. So did you write about a certain _male_??? :-D   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Haha wouldn't you like to know   
  
**NOLabels:** Yes, I would!! Speaking of which, that certain male is on right now.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** I know   
  
Taking a deep breath, Marco minimized Ellie's message box and clicked on Dylan's name. Slowly, he began to write something. Even the word "hey" would do, but it seemed to take hours for him to find the right keys. Just when the three letter word was presented and his finger was about to make contact with the enter button, a message from Dylan himself popped up. Breathless, Marco read it.   
  
**Idylan:** Hey Marco   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Hey Dylan   
  
Masking Marco's excitement was difficult, and his fingers seemed to fly over the keyboard now.   
  
**Idylan:** What's up?   
  
**BaddaBoom:** nothing much, just finishing up Kwan's homework assignment   
  
**Idylan:** Sounds exciting.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Sure, if watching paint dry also appeals to you   
  
**Idylan:** Haha!   
  
**BaddaBoom:** How about you? What have you been up to?   
  
**Idylan:** Hockey practice. Brutal   
  
**BaddaBoom:** ahh.   
  
**Idylan:** So anyway, how is . . . everything working out for you?   
  
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that what Dylan meant by "everything" was, for lack of better words, Marco's gayness. Hesitating, he bit his lip and tried to think of an acceptable reply to that. "Great"? That would be a lie. "Horrible"? What was he, a drama queen? Marco glanced back up at the screen and saw Dylan had sent him another message.   
  
**Idylan:** I know it's hard, Marco. If you need someone to talk to, well, I've got experience.   
  
Again, Marco was stumped for something to say. He didn't want to say anything stupid. Sucking up all of his bravery, he casually entered the next message and hoped Dylan wouldn't think he was pathetic.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** I'd really like that.   
  
**Idylan:** How about tomorrow after school? We can take a walk or go to the library or something.   
  
Marco couldn't believe his luck.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** That sounds great   
  
**Idylan:** 'kay. See you tomorrow, then.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Bye   
  
With a slightly dreamy sigh, Marco x-ed out of the box and quickly moved back to Ellie's.   
  
**NOLabels:** So are you going to talk to him?   
  
**NOLabels:** Marco?   
  
**NOLabels:** Oh I see how it is   
  
Grinning, he typed in the message:   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Sorry. Was talking to Dylan. Am going to meet him after school to talk. Night.   
  
After saying goodbye to Ellie, Marco signed off. He went and collapsed on his bed, thinking about his and Dylan's conversation. It would be great to have someone to talk to. Even better to talk to someone who knew what it was like.   
  
Besides, there were no romantic feelings involved, were there? Sighing, he flipped over his side and tried to go asleep, excited about the next day.   
  
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Chapter one is finite. Review, please, whether you like it, hate it, or have no feelings whatsoever towards it. See you next chapter. 


	2. Advice from a Sage

**Title:**Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** Marco, Spinner, Paige, Dylan, Ellie, Sean, Craig, Jimmy and some others   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.   
  
**Author's Note:** Please don't bother to tell me about the grammar or spelling mistakes in the journal entry. I'm well aware of them, thanks. It, after all, _is_ Spinner's journal. Okay, and Spin's journal entry would happen/ he would write it after this chapter, so everything after that is kind of like a flashback . . . get it? I've also decided to put some Ellie/Sean in here, and some other things. Yup.   
  
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**[Journal entry 2]  
Spinner Mason**   
  
I still think this journal assignment is dumb, but the thought of being stuck in this class for _another_ is just . . . scary. Last weeks journal was boring. All I wrote about was me, and Ms. Kwan told me I should "focus more on my relationships with others". So I guess I could talk about my girlfriend Paige Michalchuk, and how shes the hottest gurl at Degrassi. What else could I say about her.   
  
I saw marco after school today with her brother Dylan. I mean they were holdin and its still really gross. Not gross as in bad i mean. Gross as in weird. Seriously, guys are disgusting. We burp we fart we stink. So why would another guy choose too like guys? I know Paige says its not a choice but I really think if Marco just tried to go out with Hazel or some other hot girl than maybe things would be back to normal. but nothing is normal now.   
  
Dont get me wrong. Im not homophobic. I would never beat up Marco cuz of what he is. But like today, I saw them walkin together and I don't know how to act around him. I still think its gross but Paige will break up with me if I say anything to them so whats a guy supposed to do? How can people even think that this is normal? but even when I saw them today I didn't call them fags or anything. Today at school I realized I was harsh but its not on purpose you know. Maybe I thought it but I never did say it which is good for me. And I still feel bad for marco being beat up by those guys but im not like that. I would never do that.   
  
okay enough about him. Our band is kickin. We still need a name, though. I think **Spinner On Drums** is a great name, but not everyone else agrees. Jimmy even said, "More like Spinner on Ecstasy". Their all afraid to admit it, but I totally rule the band.   
  
Yes!!! My time is up and I'm out.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
All day throughout school, Marco strained his eyes for a glimpse of Dylan in the hallway, cafeteria, library, or anywhere else, but it was all to no avail. He was beginning to worry: what if Dylan hadn't come to school that day? What if he'd forgotten about their plans? No, he wouldn't have - would he? It was hard to pay attention in class, but he did catch the small smile Kwan gave him as she handed his journal back.   
  
"Marco," Ellie said, marching up to him while they were on a locker break. She was wearing her usual attire - all black, basically.   
  
"Oh, hey Ell," he replied, with an oddly cheerful smile.   
  
"I cannot believe you!" she said, shaking her head. "You tell me about your date -"   
  
"It's _not_ a date," Marco interrupted her, but she continued on with her sentence as though he hadn't.   
  
" - your date with Dylan and you get off, like that! I'm supposed to be your best friend. I deserve details." Crossing her arms over her chest impatiently, Marco had to grin.   
  
"There are no details. We're just hanging out after school to talk. You know, about," he lowered his voice, "what it's like."   
  
"Well, fine. But I want a full report tonight."   
  
Laughing, he mockingly saluted her. "Ma'am yes ma'am."   
  
"Did you hear that, hun?" Paige remarked to Spinner, a couple of lockers over, after eavesdropping on their conversation. "Dylan didn't tell me they were going out tonight. Aw, they're so cute together."   
  
"Yippee," Spinner replied with no enthusiasm, working hard to keep a disgusted look off his face. Sighing, he ran a hand through his scruffy hair. Wait, he had an idea. "Besides, he can't go."   
  
Paige raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend, a skeptical look on her face. "Why not?"   
  
"We have a band rehearsal tonight!" he improvised, nodding. "Most important one we're gonna have."   
  
"You can reschedule."   
  
"No, we've had this planned forever. And he knew about it, too!" Spinner's story was starting to get good. He'd just have to remember to tell Jimmy and Craig about it, to make it absolutely believable. Without saying anything else to Paige, he walked up to Marco.   
  
"You're coming tonight, right?" he said, almost in a commanding tone.   
  
"Coming where?" Marco said, looking completely confused.   
  
Seemingly irritated, Spinner let out a huge sigh. "To our band rehearsal! With the - the contract guys coming!" His story was getting better by the minute. "You know, the one we've been planning for months -"   
  
Marco was disgruntled. He didn't remember any remember any plans, and he really didn't remember any contract guys. "Oh - I - uh, have plans -"   
  
"There you go, only thinking of yourself. Do you really want to pass the opportunity for our band to go big all for your _boyfriend_?" he continued, not even trying to fight off his revolted expression.   
  
"What opportunity for our band?" Jimmy, who'd been walking down the hall and had caught snippets of what Spinner said, stopped and looked at him.   
  
Laughing weakly, Spinner gave him a look that said plainly _Go along with it!_ "Oh, Jimmy, such a kidder. You know - the rehearsal tonight -"   
  
"I'm so sorry, Jimmy. I - I must have forgotten . . . I made plans with Dylan, but I guess I can cancel them -" Marco stuttered. A look of realization dawned on Jimmy's face, which soon changed to a glare aimed at Spinner.   
  
"No, there's no _rehearsal_ tonight. Don't listen to Spin." Marco too caught on to what was happening.   
  
"I can't believe you. You are such a jerk."   
  
"Fine, whatever. But don't come crying to me when there's trouble in fairyland," Spinner retorted, turning around to leave. "Or when your stupid gay crush turns out to be a -" His body made contact with another and he stumbled backwards, causing him to swallow the last word in his sentence.   
  
"Turns out to be a what?" Dylan challenged, staring the younger boy down. Marco's face lit up at the blonde boy, though he tried not to show it.   
  
"A - a really great guy," Spinner finished nervously, walking away quickly with a false sweet smile.   
  
The four remaining laughed. "I just came over to see if we're still on for today," Dylan said to Marco, who beamed.   
  
"Yeah, we are."   
  
"Great. See you after school, then."   
  
"Bye." As soon as Dylan walked away, Ellie gave a slight shriek and squeezed Marco's hand.   
  
"So, what are you doing today?" he asked Ellie, turning back to his open locker with a permanent grin on his face.   
  
"Uh, I'm hanging out with Sean."   
  
"Sean? Sean Cameron?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Why? Are you guys . . . _together?_" Marco said, eyes widening in surprise.   
  
"No," Ellie said quickly. "We're just friends. I mean, he's a really cool guy. He's got a great taste in music, and -" The ringing of the bell cut off her next sentence, and Marco just nodded slightly. They each departed separately, but we're each excited about their plans for that day.   
  
-----   
  
When school was over, Marco grabbed his stuff and raced upstairs to the hallway that contained Dylan's locker, knocking down any kid that crossed his path. He'd gotten there so early that the hallway was barely filled, and Dylan wasn't anywhere in sight. Casually he leaned against a locker, not knowing which one was his. A few minutes later, he saw Dylan's golden curls coming toward him. He acted like he didn't notice, though, hoping to not look pathetic.   
  
"Hey," Dylan said when he spotted Marco, looking surprised.   
  
"Oh, hey," he said nervously. Was he supposed to wait outside? Was coming up here too much?   
  
"Ready?" Marco sighed with relief as Dylan stuffed his things in his locker and pulled a sweatshirt over his head. He didn't look upset.   
  
"Yeah."   
  
They walked in silence through the hallways, until they got outside. Without facing each other, they continued their trek into the park. Finally, Dylan spoke. "I guess we have three options." He stopped and looked at Marco, who mimicked his actions. "One," Dylan continued, "is for you to talk and me to listen. And two is for me to talk and you to listen. Three is for us to both talk and listen."   
  
Marco would have liked nothing more than to listen to Dylan talk straightforward. He was sure he wasn't ready to start talking himself, so he nodded and said, "You can start."   
  
"We'll take turns then," Dylan compromised, sitting down on a bench in the park. Nodding again, Marco sat next to him. "What do you want to know?"   
  
There were so many things about Dylan that Marco would have liked to know. He finally settled on one and asked timidly, "How'd you know? When'd you come out?"   
  
Dylan laughed softly, and then leaned back, eyes clouded over in thought. Taking a deep breath, he launched into his story. "Uh . . . I made the hockey team a while back, and I had a girlfriend. Her name was Kaley. Nothing serious, of course, we were still young. But I mean, I really liked her but it . . . I guess I sort of just wanted to be friends, but I was afraid if I broke up with her, our friendship would be over too. Then I started realizing if Kaley wasn't my type, then what was my type? I just wasn't attracted to girls. Then one day in the locker room, my best friend Brett was changing next to me and . . . well, I think you can figure out the rest." The two laughed together.   
  
"I guess my wondering eyes weren't a very good idea, because rumors started to spread around the hockey room. Finally I have up and I told my mom first and, uh, her reaction wasn't that great. She told me she was disappointed, and that it was way more trouble than it was worth." At the troubled look on Marco's face, he quickly added, "But she got over it soon. I mean, she still apologizes for it." He laughed. "She always knew I guess. Anyway, my dad tried to disregard it. You know, if you ignore it, it will go away syndrome. But as long as I continued to control on the ice, he was happy. And after awhile, my team realized they wouldn't get anywhere without me -" Pausing, he laughed again. "Humble, aren't I? Anyway, they saw that and eventually they left me alone about it.   
  
"The other kids at school weren't nearly as cool. It got so bad that eventually Raditch had to intervene. I mean, we had an assembly because of it - God, that was horrible. If anything, the taunting doubled." Marco nodded understandingly. "And because I was the first one to come out, no one understood it. Guys hated me. I also realized my true friends though, so at least something good came out of it."   
  
Somewhat numbly, Marco again nodded. "Okay," Dylan laughed, "my sob story's done." There was a comforting silence between the two, until Dylan reached over and put his hand on Marco's arm. His skin was tingling from the touch. And then behind them came a disgusting noise, and they both turned and saw Spinner quicken his pace as he walked by, looking revolted.   
  
Dylan sighed. Another voice spoke from behind them. Turning their heads, they expected to find Spinner again. Instead, Jay and his "gang" were standing there.   
  
"How's the date, Homochuk?"   
  
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Don't worry, this won't be like a bunch of other stories. They're not going to get bashed seriously or anything like that. Anyway, reviews = happy author, so weview, please, whether you like it, hate it, or have no feelings whatsoever towards it. Thank ya. 


	3. An Unlikely Couple

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** Marco, Spinner, Paige, Dylan, Ellie, Sean, Craig, Jimmy, Jay and his gang, and some others   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.   
  
**Author's Note:** Aha, I left you there at a minor cliffhanger. Well, that will continue later in this chapter. There are going to be two journal entries this time: one belonging to Ellie, and another of Marco's. We will see a developing in Ellie/Sean, and Marco may begin to think he's in over his head.   
  
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**[Journal entry 1]  
Ellie Nash**   
  
I don't know what to write. I've never really had a journal before. Don't get me wrong, I love to write. I'm just not the "express your emotions" type of person. Well, I could talk about how I get judged by people because the way I dress. Or I could talk about how I pretended to be girlfriend to a gay guy that I was madly in love with for a year. Or I could talk about my dad being in Kabul and my mom being an alcoholic. But I wouldn't want this to be boring.   
  
Marco and Ashley are my best friends.. At least I know that no matter what, they'll both be there for me. Well, until lately. They all have so much going on in their own lives - Ashley with Craig's situation, and Marco with Dylan . . . But even some people that you think you have all figured out can surprise you and show you an ounce of concern. Life seems so hard in your own point-of-view, but I don't have it the worst. Both of my parents are at least alive. I have a house, food, and clothes. But sometimes, pain is an ideal feeling, which Miss Suave says is wrong to think. I have to talk to her every day now. Besides, I got the co-op job so that makes me a lot happier.   
  
I've also been hanging out with Sean Cameron lately. I know because he hangs out with Jay and people like him that everyone thinks he's all tough. But they don't take the time to get to know him and find out that he's actually really sweet. I hate labels, anyway. He's a great guy. We share a lot of interests. I really want to find out more about him. And he listens really well.   
  
My dad is coming home on a two-week leave. This is the best news I've had in a long time. I can tell that my mom really misses him, and I do too. He's like the glue that holds our family together. Problem is, the glue's starting to peel and we're slowly falling apart. I think him coming home will help that, though. I'm so worried. And I hate worrying. Which is partly why I do the things I do.   
  
I really don't like this journal assignment. But then again, no one cares how I feel, anyway. Fifteen minutes are up. I'm meeting Sean at the Dot anyway.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
Sighing loudly, Ellie stood up and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter 'til four, which was when her and Sean had arranged to meet. Without a backward glance, she emerged from her bedroom into the living room. Her mom was draped over the couch, watching the blaring television, a half-empty bottle of liquor swaying in her hands.   
  
"Jesus, Mom, starting early?" she whispered to herself, starting to clean up the mess that littered the living room floor. One of the cuts on her right arm was particularly starting to sting, and she rubbed it gingerly.   
  
"What's wrong with you?" her mom said not at all caringly, with a sideways look at Ellie. Her eyes traveled to her arm, which was concealed by the black cloth that ran over it.   
  
"Nothing," she responded tonelessly, dumping the trash into the garbage can. "So, Dad's coming home in a couple of days, huh?" She should have at least received credit for trying to start up a semi-friendly conversation.   
  
Her mom didn't reply, bloodshot gaze on the screen. Ellie took a shaky breath and continued, "Well, I'm going to meet a friend at the Dot. I won't be home too late." Still no response. "Okay. Bye." At that, she walked out the front door, leaning against it as soon as it was closed. _Why do I even bother?_   
  
When she finally did arrive at the Dot, Sean was sitting on the curb patiently, headphones over his ears. She smiled at him as she approached, and standing, he grinned back.   
  
"Hey," they each greeted the other in unison.   
  
"What're you listening to?" she asked curiously, nodding at his headphones. He looked at them too and shrugged slightly.   
  
"Just a mixed CD I put together a while back," he explained, and Ellie nodded again understandingly. "Want to listen?" He handed the headphones over and she appreciatively took them and put them over her ears. Bobbing her head to the rhythm, she took them off after a little.   
  
"That's really cool."   
  
"Yeah. So you want to go inside? I don't know about you but I am _starving._"   
  
She laughed. "Yeah, I'm hungry too." In one motion, Sean grinned and snatched Ellie's right arm, putting pressure on the one scar that already hurt. She winced involuntarily and Sean stopped, concern clouding his face.   
  
"Y-you okay?" he stuttered nervously. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to - I mean, I didn't know -" She almost laughed at his alarm, and she probably would have if her arm didn't feel as if it were on fire.   
  
"I'm fine," she assured him, forcing a smile. Her breathing was heavy but she tried her best to conceal it. She looked into his eyes and found it was hard to lie. "I - I cut myself the other day, and it just stings." _Well, it wasn't a complete lie._   
  
"Oh . . . well, I'm sorry again." He looked sheepish, and Ellie smiled at him genuinely again. That small gesture was getting harder and harder to do lately.   
  
"It's fine."   
  
"I'll pay for the food to make it up," Sean insisted, with a smile that Ellie found hard to say no to.   
  
They entered the restaurant, sitting at a booth near the back. After they ordered, Sean looked at Ellie. "How's your mom doing?" Ellie was shocked that he remembered. One day when she had been specifically stressed, she had called him up and told him about the stress in her life. She'd purposely left out the cutting part, though. And for some reason, Sean had listened the entire time, only speaking when necessary.   
  
"Uh . . . she's still drinking. But my dad's coming home soon, and she always acts normal when he's around so . . ." she shrugged.   
  
He nodded, picking up a fry from the basket in between them and chewing thoughtfully. "And how are things with you?" she asked slowly, awkwardly. She knew about his situation with his parents and his brother, but she didn't want to say anything to offend him.   
  
"Eh, you know. Tracker's _still_ Tracker, and I'm still the badass kid who gets in tons of trouble and doesn't deserve anything good in life," he shrugged, as though it meant nothing to him at all. Ellie looked at him sadly and he cracked a grin. "Hey, who am I to complain?" he joked lightly.   
  
Surveying him as she pushed her red hair away from her eyes, Ellie shrugged. "Maybe we should all get a chance to complain." A slight silence fell over the table, and Ellie quickly grabbed a fry and bit off the top of it, not making eye contact. After a little while of this uncomfortable silence, she took a deep breath and asked, "Why don't you hang out with Craig and Spinner and them anymore?"   
  
"I don't know," he admitted. "Sometimes it just felt like they let me hang around because they pitied me. But with Jay it's not like that." She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "He's actually a really cool guy. He gets me. Like you get me." They smiled at each other.   
  
"You know, maybe you should come with me tomorrow to pick out some new tunes," Sean said, motioning to his CD player. "I mean, for a chick, you have got the best taste in music."   
  
She gladly accepted the invitation, before she realized that his grin had faded and he was frowning at her arm. Following his gaze, she could see that her black arm stocking was sagging a bit, revealing a section of her pale skin. The slivers of two scars were visible on the patch of skin, and her cheeks went red.   
  
"What -" Sean began suspiciously, searching her face.   
  
Laughing meekly, she replied, "I told you already, I cut myself. On accident. It was no big deal." As if he didn't believe her, he nodded slightly. She looked down at the table, still blushing furiously.   
  
"So, uh, I better get home and take care of my mom," she quickly excused herself, standing up.   
  
"Right. We still on for tomorrow?" Sean asked, watching her closely. She nodded once, and quickly left the restaurant. All the while, Sean inspected her from behind.   
  
-----   
  
Worriedly, Marco glanced in between Jay and Dylan, who had now risen to his full height. Apparently he was attempting to intimidate the other, but Jay didn't back down.   
  
"Did you get a kissy-wissy?" he continued to Marco, puckering his lips and making kissing sounds.   
  
"Go away, Jay," Dylan warned venomously. Jay paid no heed as he continued harassing the two boys.   
  
"Does Mommy know you're in the park with your boyfriend?" Jay grinned widely, and the two ignorant guys behind him laughed as if on cue.   
  
"I mean it!" Dylan took a step towards them, but that only made the gang laugh harder.   
  
"How cute! Homochuk is standing up for his little boyfriend. Isn't that so sweet, boys?" His groupies nodded and began making identical kissing noises as well. Marco stood then too, but rather than going towards them like Dylan, he took a giant step backwards. Dylan cocked his head slightly and gave him a look that said plainly, _Now's your chance! Show 'em you're not scared!_   
  
But instead, thoughts of the night he was bashed flooded into his mind. He took another stumbling step backwards.   
  
"Is the little queer _scared_ of Big Bad Jay? Aww. Doesn't this just make me feel so bad?" Laughing, he stuck his lower lip out. Having had enough, Dylan took a large step in and raised his fist to hit him, but Marco grabbed his arm before he could.   
  
"Come on, Dylan. Let's just - let's go." Almost dumbfounded, he lowered his arm and stared at Marco. Very slowly, though, he nodded and turned, after shooting an icy glare at Jay.   
  
"Yeah, that's right," Jay laughed at their retreating backs. "Run away, fags."   
  
Clenching his teeth, Dylan looked at Marco in wonderment, "I could have kicked their asses, Marco - I could have -"   
  
"I know, Dylan, but that's not the point." Focusing his eyes on a certain patch of grass, Marco sighed. "I'm not like you. I could never stand up to them. M-maybe you could . . . teach me?" He glanced at Dylan uncertainly, and Dylan sighed.   
  
"It's not really about teaching - I mean, it's just something that you've gotta do. It's, I don't know, subconscious or something."   
  
"If it's any consolation, I do know that you could definitely kick their asses," Marco said with an uncomfortable smile. They slowly made their way back to the street, silent the entire time.   
  
"You're not . . . embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?" Dylan asked slowly, and Marco gaped.   
  
"Of course not!"   
  
"Good," he replied with a smile. "So anyway, it's your turn to talk."   
  
"Uhh . . . about what?"   
  
"How did _you_ know?"   
  
"Uh . . ." He took that into consideration, staring off into space. Truth was, he'd thought about how he would answer the question millions of times. But his answers never seemed good enough. "I wish I had an answer as sure as yours," he admitted, laughing. "I guess . . . Ellie helped me realize it. And God, she was so great to me. But, um, I guess I've attracted to guys for a little while and never really realized it until . . ." His voice fell out slightly.   
  
"Until?" Dylan pried subtly.   
  
"Until I met you."   
  
**[Journal entry 2]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
Saying something out loud can change things a lot. For example, when I was five my mama got a horrible haircut. I always thought this in my head, but I never said it aloud. That is, until she asked me how her hair looked and I stared her straight in the eye and told her it looked like a skunk had died on top of her head. She now never asks my opinion on her looks, and tries to avoid me while doing her hair. And when I was thirteen, and a friend of mine asked if I thought she was good enough of a singer to try out for the musical. She sang to me, and I shook my head and told her there was no way. That even if she tried she wouldn't even be cast as the cow, who had no lines. Needless to say, our friendship fell apart. But when I told Dylan that he was the guy I had a crush on, that _he_ was the one guy that I was actually attracted to, things really changed. Not for the worst, though, as they usually seem to. For the better.   
  
He got a big smile on his face, and he told me that even though he was already out, I'd helped him find himself as well. I don't really understand what he meant by that, though. Oh well - I'm seeing a movie with him tomorrow. A _date_. Well, he didn't actually specify that it was a date - oh my god, what if it's not a date? What if he just wants to go as friends? How could I have forgotten this detail? Oh, well. I guess I'll figure it tomorrow.   
  
I still haven't told my parents. And now, after Dylan told me how **his** parents reacted, I'm not sure I even ever want to. How do I explain to them that their youngest son, who they've been pestering for grandchildren, won't ever have kids? Actually, I think my mama still thinks Ellie is my girlfriend - every time Ellie's at the house, she always bakes cookies and acts really sweetly toward her.   
  
I've thought about telling Carlos. I mean, he is my only brother and all. But I think I'm as scared of him as I was of those bashers? Not that I'd ever admit it, but I really do look up to Carlos. He can be a good older brother, when he's not being a pain in the butt.   
  
Life was so much easier when I was straight. Or, when I thought I was straight. Dylan promised me he'd help me figure out a game plan to come clean to my family. I really appreciate all the help he gives me. I'm really glad that I have someone to talk to who knows what it's like.   
  
Okay, wow. I wrote way more than needed. It's been a good twenty minutes. Anyway, until later I guess. Ciao.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
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I really appreciate any and all reviews I receive, and trust me, it's not hard. Just press that little button over there. I don't care if you tell me how absolutely dreadful it is, how much you love it, or how you think it's just "okay". But please, review. 


	4. Taunting

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** Marco, Spinner, Paige, Dylan, Ellie, Sean, Carlos, Jay and his gang, and some others   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.   
  
**Author's Note:** In this chapter, there is harsh language and forgive me for that. You know how people are, though. Also I will be bringing in Marco's brother Carlos as well as his friend Tim. And something big happens between Sean and Ellie. Enjoy!   
  
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"So did you guys kiss?" were the first words out of Paige's mouth as soon as soon as Dylan strolled in through the front door, a big smile on his face. She was on the living room couch watching a movie, as well as cuddling up next to Spinner. Rolling his eyes at Paige and smirking at Spinner's disgusted look, he proceeded to take off his jacket silently.   
  
"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't," he taunted her, collapsing on the couch next to Spinner, much to the other's dismay.   
  
"Dylan!" Paige cried out, shoving her boyfriend out of the way a little so she could reach over and smack him playfully.   
  
"We saw you at the park, Spinner," Dylan said with a small grin. Raising her eyebrows, Paige looked at Spinner.   
  
"Yeah," he said uncomfortably, staring at the television with fake interest.   
  
"What, were you too busy to say hello?"   
  
"Something like that," Spinner replied, trying hard to keep the revolted expression off of his face.   
  
"You didn't tell me you saw them." Paige accused Spin, crossing her arms over her chest. "Were they making out or something?" He looked at her, eyes widening slightly and wrinkling his nose distastefully. "Oh get over it."   
  
"No," he said simply, not looking at Dylan.   
  
"Oh, come on Spinner," Dylan interrupted, smirking. "Go on, tell her." Paige looked at her older brother questioningly; the same expression Spinner was now wearing. "Tell her how you saw us making out against the tree." Paige's eyes got huge at this information, waiting eagerly for him to continue. "Tell her how you begged to join us, and then we had a wonderful threesome on the bench."   
  
Crying out disgustedly, Spinner jumped up from the couch. Paige joined in on laughing really hard along with Dylan. "You kids have fun now," Dylan, still laughing, said. He patted Spinner's leg, grinned, and left up towards his room.   
  
-----   
  
When Marco got home, his parents were in the living room, watching television. "Hi honey," his mother said warmly, kissing his cheek.   
  
"Hi Mama," he replied, flashing her a smile.   
  
"Did you have a good time with Ellie?"   
  
He always felt guilty when he lied to his parents, but until he was ready to come out he didn't exactly have any other choices. "Yes, Mama."   
  
"Good. Go on and start your homework. I love you," she said, kissing him again.   
  
"Love you too." He traipsed up the steps, two at a time, heading towards his room. He had a permanent smile on his face, which he didn't think anything could rid it. That was, until his older brother yelled for him as he passed his room.   
  
"Hey Marco," Carlos said, beckoning him over with two fingers. He was on his bed, listening to the radio, and drumming his fingers to the beat on the table. Hesitating slightly, Marco entered his room. Carlos' bedroom was cluttered with sports trophies and pennants, mainly hockey and soccer. His older brother was the physical pride of the family, while Marco was more of the _artistic_ type.   
  
"What?" Marco said, somewhat irritated. His brother hardly ever called him in for just a civil conversation.   
  
"Where'd you go tonight?" he said bluntly, turning the volume knob of his radio down. Marco faltered.   
  
"Uh . . . out, with some friends . . . Look, I've got a lot of homework that I really need to get started on."   
  
"Tim called and told me that you and Michalchuk were taking a nice little stroll through the park," Carlos said suspiciously, straightening out on his bed. Marco's stomach clenched up tightly, and found it was difficult to speak.   
  
"Uh . . . uh, yeah. See, we were talking about . . ." He thought quickly. "Hockey."   
  
Carlos stared hard at him, trying to get the other to back down or see if he was telling the truth. "Michalchuk's a homo," he spoke finally, twirling a pencil in his hands.   
  
"Y-yeah? So what?"   
  
"So if you hang out with him," Carlos explained, rolling over on his stomach, "people will think _you're_ a homo too. And _my_ reputation's at stake too." Marco would have rolled his eyes, if any of his body parts were functioning at the moment. "Besides, what if he like, checks you out?" Just the thought alone made Carlos shudder.   
  
"Shut up, Carlos. Dylan's cool. Besides, he's an awesome hockey player and -" Carlos cut him off before he could go on.   
  
"Yeah, but he's probably only on the team so he can see sweaty, naked guys in the locker room," he laughed, a grossed-out look attached to his face.   
  
Marco glared at him slightly; his stomach lurching at the thought of his brother finding out he was gay.   
  
"Well, anyway, I don't want you hanging out with him." Marco couldn't believe his ears. Carlos was trying to **stop** him from seeing Dylan?   
  
"What?" he said, disbelievingly.   
  
"Seriously. People will think you're a fag too."   
  
"I don't care what people think," he said, and stopped in his tracks. _I don't care what people think._ That was a complete lie, and he knew it. If he didn't care, wouldn't he have come out to his family by now? He **did** care. But that wasn't going to stop him from hanging out with Dylan.   
  
"Whatever, Marco. But I'm not stepping up for you if you get a beat down - and not for your shoes this time." Swallowing hard, Marco turned and quickly left the room. For his shoes. His brother still thought he got bashed for his shoes. Shaking his head, he numbly got out his books and tried to start his homework. The words on the pages were incredibly hard to read. Everything was a big blur to him.   
  
Standing, he pushed his books away and turned out his light. He'd have to finish his homework in the morning. Turning over in bed, he closed his eyes and gave away to sleep.   
  
-----   
  
Ellie closed her eyes as the blood oozed down her wrist, seeping over the previous scars and concealing them under the crimson liquid. The pain didn't bother her too much anymore - in fact, she hardly noticed it at all. With a shuddering sigh, she opened her eyes again and turned the faucet off. Gingerly she cleaned the knife until it was blood-free, and put it in the dishwater. Then she washed the blood off of her arm as well, and pulled the red and black striped cotton back over the wounds.   
  
She was supposed to meet Sean at the music store in a few minutes, and she knew she'd be late again. But that day had gone horribly already - her math homework was lost, and there was a pop quiz in History that she wasn't at all ready for.   
  
Poking her head into her mom's room, Ellie opened her mouth to say something, but it wouldn't matter. Snoring loudly, her mother was sprawled over her bed. The atmosphere hung low with the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Sighing, she closed the door and left the house.   
  
When she finally arrived at the music store, Sean was inside, browsing through CDs. Seeing him through the untainted windows, she headed in. He looked up at her and grinned, putting the music aside.   
  
"Hey," he said when she got in. She said it back, and then Sean discreetly jerked a thumb towards the cashier, whose eyes were pointed directly at him. Every move he made, the raven-like eyes followed. Sean picked up a CD. The eyes followed. He turned so his back was towards the cashier. The cashier took a step to the left, and once again his eyes were on the CD. Laughing, Sean put the CD back on the rack, and the cashier relaxed. "I must look like some sort of criminal," he joked.   
  
But Ellie was narrowing her eyes at the man. "That's completely not right," she remarked, forehead wrinkled.   
  
"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it," he said, and then dramatically swept his eyes over his attire. "I wonder what it could be."   
  
Ellie laughed, forgetting about the situation. "Ready to start looking?" He agreed, and the two proceeded on to have a good time while picking out the kind of music that they both liked. After they had purchased their items and the cashier bed them a bitter yet relieved goodbye, they decided to take a walk. It was starting to get dark and chilly.   
  
Ellie shivered involuntarily from the chill outside, and immediately Sean took off his gray hoodie and handed it to her.   
  
"Are you crazy?" she said in disbelief, not taking it from him. "You'll freeze to death." All Sean was wearing under that hoodie was a t-shirt and a wife-beater.   
  
"I'll be fine," he insisted, pushing it over towards her. Reluctantly she took the sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, feeling warmer already.   
  
They walked a little ways in silence, and the air around them got tense when their hands brushed each other's. Finally, they stopped outside a coffee shop. Almost hesitantly, Sean looked her in the eye and told Ellie, "I'm really glad we hung out tonight. I mean . . . I really like you, Ellie. A lot." He may have wanted to say something else, but couldn't because his lips were soon pressed against Ellie's. The kiss didn't last _too_ long, but long enough for Sean to realize the feelings weren't unrequited.   
  
When they broke apart, Ellie smiled at him.   
  
"Wanna get some coffee or something?" Sean asked breathlessly, and Ellie happily agreed.   
  
-----   
  
**[Journal entry 3]  
Marco del Rossi**   
  
I realize that life isn't perfect. Life doesn't even pretend to be perfect. If someone says to you that their life is perfect, they're lying. I had a talk with my brother Carlos today. He asked me about Dylan, and I told him plainly that I like to hang out with him. What I didn't tell him was that I was attracted to him, and that I was actually going on a date (or something) with him.   
  
I don't even want to know how Carlos would react. And I feel guilty, because not telling my family that their son is gay is just as bad as lying to them. I don't **want** Carlos to know, though. I'm honestly afraid. I wish I was as brave as Dylan.   
  
What's the huge difference between straight and gay anyway? I mean, guys don't get offended if girls check them out - why should they get offended if guys do? If a guy was straight, I would never _hit on him_ or anything like that. I can respect that they don't appreciate that. But why do they hate me for being gay? There are so many questions I have, and so many answers that I want. And need. I told Dylan this, and he just said there _aren't_ answers for everything. That I've got to answer them myself as life goes on.   
  
I've decided to come out to my parents at least. They deserve to know. And if they're disappointed, well . . . let's just not think about that. I don't see my mama have a huge problem with it, except for the fact that no grandchildren will come from me any time soon. But what about my dad? Would he be as disgusted as some of the guys at school? I know Carlos would. Just the way he reacted when he heard I was talking to Dylan.   
  
I'm definitely going to come out soon though. I'll talk to Dylan about it, and we'll see how it goes. Until next time.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
Marco straightened his shirt once more, making sure all of the ruffles were out of it. He ran his hands through his hair as he continued to stare at the mirror. Dylan was going to pick him up in less than four minutes to go to the movies, and he was as nervous as heck. Exiting the bathroom, he went downstairs.   
  
As soon as he entered the living room, a car from outside honked. He looked at his mother and said quickly, "I'm going to the movies, Mama. I'll be back later."   
  
His mother looked up at her and said, in her natural motherly way, "Who are you going with?"   
  
"A friend from school," he sighed, wanting to leave.   
  
"Who is it? What's his name? How old is he? Or is it a her?" she questioned, blocking him from the doorway.   
  
Marco sighed again, and answered truthfully, "It's a he. His name is Dylan Michalchuk, and he's a Grade 12."   
  
"And he's driving?" she continued, not moving.   
  
"Yes."   
  
"I'd like to meet him first," his mother concluded finally, nodding.   
  
"_Mom!_" he whined, but he knew it was all to no avail. Slowly and dreadfully, he opened the door and motioned Dylan, who was parked in the driveway, inside with his index finger. Looking confused, Dylan stepped out of the car and headed towards Marco.   
  
"My mom wants to meet you," he mumbled miserably, and Dylan slowly nodded.   
  
"Hello," his mother said when the two of them came back in. She held out her hand to Dylan, and politely he shook it.   
  
"And your name is?" she asked.   
  
"Dylan Michalchuk, ma'am," he replied formally, yet smoothly. Just then, Carlos and his friend Tim came tearing down the steps. Marco's stomach did a somersault as they stopped abruptly in the living room, halfway gaping at Dylan. For the first time, Dylan looked nervous.   
  
"What's he doing here?" Carlos asked rudely.   
  
"He and Marco are going to a movie," his mother said, giving him a strict look, which clearly was a warning sign for him to watch his tone.   
  
"Marco can't go," Carlos interjected, looking at Tim almost fearfully because of his reputation. Tim was looking at Dylan, a disgusted expression on his face. Dylan was staring at the ground, almost like a deer trapped in headlights.   
  
"Why not?" his mother asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"Because . . . because he's playing soccer, with us. _You_ promised, Marco. Remember that?" he quickly improvised, then turned to his friend for help. "Remember that, Tim?"   
  
"Yeah, I do remember," he said slowly, still shooting dirty looks toward Dylan.   
  
"I did not!" Marco finally spoke.   
  
"Carlos, leave your brother alone. He's going to a movie. You boys have fun now," his mother said, nodding and leaving the living room. All four boys looked relieved that she was gone, but no one was sure what to say.   
  
"Ready to go Marco?" Dylan finally said, hesitatingly. Marco was glad for the icebreaker, but then Carlos interrupted before he could give his consent.   
  
"We already told you, he's playing soccer," he said coldly. Dylan didn't know what to respond to that.   
  
"Yeah, so you can go on home fag-boy," Tim added with a grin. Him and Carlos traded high fives, laughing.   
  
"Shut up!" Marco said loudly, glaring at the two. Dylan still didn't know what to do. Normally he'd beat the crap out of anyone who said that, but he was in Marco's house . . . and it was Marco's brother.   
  
"Sticking up for the homo? How cute," Tim cooed, still laughing. "Is he your _boyfriend?_" Instead of laughing along this time too though, Carlos elbowed him hard in the side.   
  
"Dude, shut up. My little brother's not a queer," Carlos said. Embarrassedly, Marco looked at Dylan and then the front door, which Tim and Carlos were standing in front of.   
  
"_Move_, guys. We're going to be late for the movie," Marco said, trying to step through. But Carlos held out his arms and shoved him backwards a bit.   
  
"Dude, do you really want to sit next to a faggot in the movie? Halfway through he'll have you bent over a seat, if you know what I mean," Carlos laughed, and Tim joined in. Dylan turned his head away, feeling miserable, and Marco felt the exact same way for him.   
  
"Shut up! It's not funny," Marco said loudly, but nonetheless the two continued laughing.   
  
"Actually, it's really funny."   
  
"Look, Marco, I'll just - I'll go home," Dylan said softly, not wanting to cause any more trouble.   
  
"No," Marco said quickly, "let's just go out the back door." Quickly, they left the other way, but not before Tim threw in a loud "Faggot!"   
  
"I . . . I am so sorry about that," Marco said once they got in the car, his voice shaking tremendously. "I mean, seriously. My brother is such a jerk, and I didn't know they were going to be home . . . I'm really sorry," he rambled, looking like he was about to break into tears.   
  
"It's okay," Dylan assured him, starting up the engine. "Really. I mean, I'm used to it."   
  
Looking uncomfortable, Marco stared out the window. "I'm going to be the butt of all that soon," he said quietly.   
  
Not exactly sure how to comfort him, Dylan only said, "You'll get through it. And they'll realize that it's wrong. And besides, you've got me on your side." Marco took that as offensive. What he thought Dylan was trying to do was take a dig at him for not telling his brother or sticking up more for Dylan.   
  
He looked down, and Dylan suddenly realized. "Oh, I didn't mean that. I know, it's hard coming out. And you'be got plenty of time."   
  
There was a silence in the car, and then very slowly, Marco said, "Dylan? I think I'm ready to come out to my parents."   
  
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I really appreciate any and all reviews I receive, and trust me, it's not hard. Just press that little button over there. I don't care if you tell me how absolutely dreadful it is, how much you love it, or how you think it's just "okay". But please, review.   
  
[I got lazy and just copied last week's Author's Note. :D] 


	5. Here I Am

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.   
  
**Author's Note:** THANK YOU TO ALL OF MY REVIEWERS! =D Ha, reviews make me feel special. So keep 'em coming! Also, I'm SO sorry it took me so long to update! I've just been so busy lately, it's not even funny.   
  
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"Are you sure?" Dylan took his eyes off the road, and glanced furtively at Marco's worried expression. His breathing was deep yet even, and his eyes were fixated on an off-colored spot on the flooring of the car.   
  
Marco took the question into consideration, wondering why he'd said that to Dylan. _No! Of course I'm not ready!_ his brain screamed out, but he remained calm and collected on the outside. "Yes." There was a silence, and then Marco blurted out, "No!" Tears threatened to spill over, but Marco tried his best to hold them back.   
  
"Marco, it's _okay_. I promise," Dylan told him concernedly, worried about the younger boy. He reached over and put a hand on Marco's quivering arm. Jumping slightly at the touch, Marco stared uncertainly at Dylan's hand. He'd never been so confused by such a simple gesture before.   
  
"Relax," Dylan said with a smile, and Marco blushed at the fact that he'd been caught. "It's just a hand."   
  
"I want to come out to my parents," Marco said seriously, and then hesitated. "But I don't know how."   
  
"No one ever does," Dylan replied, shrugging his shoulders lightly.   
  
"But you did."   
  
"It wasn't easy." Dylan glanced in the mirror in the car, and then back at Marco. Both hands were on the steering wheel again, which Marco regretted. It had felt nice.   
  
"I wish it was," Marco said mournfully. His gaze drifted back down to the stain on the floor. Respecting the stillness, Dylan continued to drive towards the movie theater. "I really don't want to tell Carlos," Marco admitted after a few seconds, which didn't at all surprise Dylan.   
  
"You're going to have to sooner or later," Dylan wisely advised him, frowning slightly.   
  
"I know," he moaned, his hand going to his dark hair. It was a bad habit of his; rumpling his hair just lightly when he was worried about something. "If I - if I were to come out to my parents, would you be with me when I did it?" he asked Dylan uncertainly. The question surprised Dylan greatly.   
  
"Of course," he responded, smiling a little bit. "If you want me to. Besides, I know how to cool a parent off." Marco raised an eyebrow at his gloating statement. "No, really," Dylan continued jokingly, "I'm in the middle of writing a book: _So your son is gay…_." The two began laughing loudly together, and continued doing so until Dylan pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of the movie theater.   
  
They got out of the car and walked in together, getting in line for tickets. Marco was standing behind Dylan, fumbling through his wallet to try and get enough money for the ticket, when, "Two tickets to _Eurotrip_, please."   
  
Marco stared at Dylan. _What was he doing?!_ Dylan saw Marco's expression, and he himself reddened slightly. "Hey, I may be buying the tickets, but you're so getting popcorn and drinks," he said quickly, with a good-natured grin. Marco relaxed greatly.   
  
"Sounds fair to me," he nodded. They walked over to the concessions and Dylan proclaimed that he had a hankering for candy, rather than popcorn. Marco agreed, despite the ridiculous cost of a box of candy at the movie theaters. Dylan then took about five minutes to deliberate on which candy he wanted; he had to make sure to get something to good. Finally, he settled on gummy bears and they both got Pepsis.   
  
"You are so picky," Marco informed him as the guy behind the counter handed Dylan his gummy bears.   
  
"No, I just know what I like," he corrected him with a lopsided grin. Marco's heart gave an involuntary flutter. Dylan was _so_ cute.   
  
Inside the theater, Dylan took equally as long to decide where to sit. "See, if you sit in the front, you have to look up and your neck starts hurting after a while. And if you see in the back, you have to sort of squint and that just kills your eyes. But if you sit in the direct middle, well, _everyone_ wants to sit there, so it's all crowded and you can never have privacy," he explained, and Marco smiled at the fact that he wanted privacy.   
  
They finally selected two seats in between the front and the middle, and near the right side because Dylan also didn't like sitting in the middle of the row.   
  
Marco chuckled quietly. "I didn't know you were so serious when you said you know what you like," he muttered. Dylan grinned at him, but before he could respond the lights dimmed and the previews began rolling.   
  
About halfway through the movie, it happened. Marco's eyes were fixated on the screen; his sides hurt from laughing so hard. The movie was hilarious in a perverted kind of way, which was what guys liked. His arms were on their armrests, and the straw from his Pepsi was dangling out of his mouth. And then, he felt something touch his hand.   
  
He looked down at his hand and surely enough, Dylan's own hand was resting on top of it. Marco's heart began thumping wildly; he was terrified that Dylan could hear it.   
  
Dylan looked at Marco in the corner of his eye, wondering if his little gesture had been too much. Maybe Marco wasn't interested him at all. Maybe all he thought of him as was his gay mentor. Marco did look uncomfortable, but after only a few seconds of internal conflict, he smiled.   
  
Feeling so relieved, Dylan left his hand there for the rest of the entire movie. Only when the credits were rolling did he remove it.   
  
Neither boy knew what to say. This was strange to Dylan; he'd dated a couple of guys before, but this - this was different. This was _special_, and he knew it. It was still tender (Marco hadn't even come out to his own parents) but if nothing else, he was sure of it.   
  
They walked back to the car in companionable silence. Marco wanted so badly to ask Dylan a question, but he couldn't quite get it out. It rolled to the tip of his tongue, burning a hole into his mouth. In the middle of putting his seatbelt on, the question rolled out easily. "Was this a date?" Replaying the question into his head, it sounded horrible no matter how many times he replayed it. He winced mentally, waiting for the embarrassment to dawn on him. _Of course it wasn't,_ he thought.   
  
But Dylan surprised him. He was also taken aback by the question; no doubt had he given it thoughtful consideration though. "Did you want it to be?"   
  
"Uh… I guess so," Marco responded truthfully, his voice small and shaky.   
  
"Then yeah," Dylan grinned. "I guess it was." Marco began grinning too.   
  
"So… about coming out…" He said, blushing immensely. Dylan ruffled Marco's hair with a slight laugh, and pulled out of the parking way of the theater.   
  
"Whenever you're ready; I'm here," he promised.   
  
**[Journal Entry 4]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
_I'm here_. That's what Dylan told me today after our date. Yes, our _date_, and no, I couldn't believe it either. We went and saw this movie, which was actually pretty funny. And then, out of nowhere, I felt his hand over mine. I tried my best to act like I didn't notice, but I could see Dylan was looking at me so I smiled. He smiled back, and then we held hands for the entire rest of the movie.   
  
And then afterwards, back in his car, I don't know what possessed me to do it. I asked him if he thought it was a date. He asked me if I wanted it to be, and I said yes. I actually had the nerve to say yes! Well, anyway, after that he grinned and said that it was a date. My first date with a guy. Going on date's with Ellie was always cool and all, but this was different. I wouldn't say better, but definitely different. And even better, he invited me to come over Friday night and watch movies. Paige and Spin will be there too.   
  
I've really thought about telling my parents, and I've decided the easiest and best thing to do is just to come out and tell them. (Come out… Haha.) This also means I'll have to tell Carlos, but eventually he'll get over it (I hope). Dylan's coming over to my house Friday right after school, and he's going to hope me tell them. (I specifically chose Friday because Carlos has soccer practice… does this make me a coward?)   
  
I don't even care what anyone thinks anymore. I don't want to ruin anything with Dylan. So here I am.   
  
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Pretty short chapter; my apologies! Anyway, pleasepleaseplease review. It makes me feel happy. And also, once again, sorry for the delay!   
  
**Review to make me happy.**   
  
Happiness = More chapters. 


	6. Coming Clean

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.   
  
**Author's Note:** Thank you EVERYONE, for your remarkable reviews. I love love **love** them all, so much. This chapter was a lot of fun to write, and it came easily. I hope you like it. Either way, review, pleasepleaseplease. I dunno how well I wrote this chapter. I'm leaving it up to you to tell me. And once again, thanks for reading!   
  
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"Thank God it's Friday," Ellie moaned, wrinkling her nose distastefully at the textbooks that were piled in front of her. Clearly oblivious to her, Marco only made a little humming noise.   
  
"What're you doing this weekend?" she pressed on, raising an eyebrow at her best friend's lack of attention. She was starting to get annoyed; all day long Marco had been zoned out, not listening to anything she said. When Marco didn't reply, she snapped loudly, "Marco?! Earth to Marco."   
  
His head jerked in her direction, as though he was just noticing she was there for the first time. "What'd you say?" he asked apologetically.   
  
"What are you doing this weekend?" she repeated, shutting her locker door. Marco's gaze drifted to the tiled floor, then back up at Ellie.   
  
"Actually," he said in a near whisper, "I… I've decided to tell my parents."   
  
"What?!" Ellie shrieked, and wincing, Marco shushed her quickly. "Sorry," she said, more quietly. "But… why didn't you tell me this?"   
  
"Well, the truth is… I'm not sure I can do it." Ashamed, his cheeks reddened. "But I sort of promised Dylan I would."   
  
"_Dylan_? So you guys are officially…" she said, a grin tugging at her lips.   
  
"No!" He hurriedly replied, but he couldn't resist smiling as well. "We've only gone on a date once…"   
  
"Have you kissed?" she continued, hungry for information.   
  
"No!" he repeated once more. "But…" She looked at him, eyes flashing. "We did hold hands." With a somewhat muffled screech, she squeezed his hand tightly and he laughed.   
  
"That's awesome Marco."   
  
"Yeah, it was pretty cool. And completely nerve-wracking. And I told him I wanna come out. There's no way I could do that." Biting his lip, his eyes once more returned to the floor. "Today, actually. I'm supposed to tell them today."   
  
"I think you should definitely do it," Ellie informed him, nodding. "They have to know sooner or later. I mean, I think by the time you're forty they'll figure out the guy you're living and always with is_ not _just a friend." Marco chuckled slightly.   
  
"If I could be so lucky. Anyway, enough about me. What's going on with you and Sean?"   
  
Ellie blushed, smiling slightly. Skipping a beat, she shrugged her shoulders. "Well… we're sort of, you know… um, together."   
  
"Really?" He flashed her a grin. "That's great."   
  
"Yeah, he's a really cool guy." Slamming their locker doors shut simultaneously, the two began walking down the hallway of a thinning group of people.   
  
"How're you getting home?" Ellie asked, coming to an abrupt stop right outside of the school.   
  
As though answering her question, a voice shouted out, "Marco!" They both turned around, to find Dylan leaning against his car. With his usual lopsided grin, he shoved his curls out of his eyes. Marco's knees buckled slightly.   
  
"Wow. How romantic," Ellie whispered, giving Marco's hand a final squeeze. He, in return, chuckled lightly, still utterly nervous. "Good luck, Marco."   
  
"Thanks, El," he managed to choke out. She went off her own way. Marco meant to walk over to Dylan's car, but his legs didn't seem to be working. He wasn't sure if he was more nervous about being with Dylan or coming out to his parents. It was a lose-lose situation, he at last decided. Managing to finally stumble clumsily over to the car, Marco tried to smile. He failed miserably.   
  
"Excited?" joked Dylan as Marco climbed into the vehicle.   
  
"Thrilled," Marco mumbled, his stomach somersaulting. He was nauseated from the nerves, but they soothed a little when Dylan began speaking.   
  
"Trust me, after you come out, life seems like a bowl of cherries." Eyes slightly wide, Marco looked at the older boy. "Well, no, not really," Dylan continued, shaking his head. "But it can't get much worse." Marco sighed, and Dylan went on thoughtfully, "It could get worse actually. I remember one time in hockey these guys from Lofton doubled up on me. Broke some ribs. It was pretty painful." Laughing slightly and jerking out of his stupor, he looked at Marco. "I'm not helping, am I? Sorry, I ramble when I'm nervous."   
  
"_You're_ nervous?" Marco said incredulously.   
  
Dylan laughed more. "Yeah, of course. This isn't going to be a walk in the park for me either. I doubt your parents will take very kindly to me. Speaking of which, about how big is your dad?" he asked jokingly.   
  
"Big enough to murder me when I tell him," Marco muttered, shifting his legs under him. A silence washed over the vehicle, with Dylan sneaking looks at him every few seconds. He wished the car ride to his home was longer; it seemed merely seconds before the car pulled into the driveway.   
  
"We're here," Dylan announced. This being stated, neither boy even made a motion to get out of the car. They didn't even unbuckle their seatbelts.   
  
"Mhm."   
  
"Are you ready?"   
  
"No," Marco replied truthfully, opening the car door. "But let's go."   
  
"Where's Carlos?" Dylan asked, almost fearfully.   
  
"Soccer practice," he answered, gulping. He hoped Dylan didn't think less of him for choosing a time when his brother wasn't home. But Dylan only nodded.   
  
They went in through the front door, both uneasily. Marco's mother was in the living room, comfortably resting on the couch and reading a book. She smiled as her son and his friend entered the room, and stood up. "Hello Marco," she said warmly, kissing him on the cheek. "Hello, Dylan." She nodded to the blonde.   
  
"Hi, Mrs. Del Rossi," Dylan replied formally.   
  
"Hi Mama," Marco echoed, kind of emptily.   
  
"Are you okay, honey?" his mother said, picking up on his behavior. She immediately put her hand to Marco's forehead. "You do feel kind of hot, but I don't think you have a fever. Maybe you should go to bed…" she continued, with genuine motherly concern.   
  
"No, I'm fine, Mama," he said, forcing a smile onto his lips. "Where's Dad?" The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could stop feeling like his guts were about to spill out of his mouth.   
  
"He should be home any minute now," she replied, and as if on cue, his father walked in through the door. Dylan, meanwhile, was standing off to the side and trying to keep to himself. Marco's father wasn't as warm as his mother; in fact, he was every bit as sarcastic as Carlos. But Marco loved him and he was undoubtedly a good father.   
  
"Hey Marco," he said, laying his briefcase down on the ground. Marco returned the greeting. "Who's this?" He motioned to Dylan with his head, collapsing on the couch by his wife.   
  
Somewhat tensely, Dylan extended a hand and said, "Dylan M-Michalchuk, sir."   
  
His eyes widened slightly; no doubt had he heard his oldest son complaining about Marco hanging out with "the school faggot". He wasn't very tolerant to gays either. "The f -" He stopped mid-sentence, seeing Marco's eyes slightly bulge out. Dylan also faltered, and he changed his wording immediately, "The hockey player, no doubt?"   
  
"Y-yes sir."   
  
"You… play well," Marco's father nodded, turning on the television. Dylan embarrassedly muttered a 'thank you, sir'.   
  
"Why don't you boys go up to your room and play?" Mrs. Del Rossi said sweetly, and Marco shut his eyes.   
  
"Okay. Uh, Dylan?" Marco waited for a look of disappointment from his comrade, but received none. Instead, the two tramped up the steps and into Marco's room.   
  
"I can't do it," Marco said immediately.   
  
"You can too."   
  
"No, I _can't_. It would break my mother's heart. And my father would break my body. Into millions of little pieces." Dylan cocked his head at Marco, giving him the _you're being ridiculous_ look. Secretly, though, he thought Marco's father was very capable of that.   
  
"I… I'm gonna go get something to drink," Marco said, leaving the room. It was too uncomfortable being enclosed in such a little space with Dylan.   
  
As he retraced his path back downstairs, he could hear his mom and dad conversing in the living room. He crouched behind a couch silently, as he heard the two voices go back and forth.   
  
"It's just not normal." That was his father's voice.   
  
"He's a _nice_ boy," his mother hissed back.   
  
"I don't care how nice he is! For all we know, that is contagious. I don't want Marco hanging around him."   
  
"Listen to what you are saying! It is _not_ contagious, and anyway, what does it matter? He is Marco's friend, and I am not letting you take that away from him."   
  
"Fine," his father concluded gruffly, angry that he hadn't gotten his way. The talking ended, and the television volume was turned up. Feeling like he was going to cry, Marco turned and walked slowly back to his room. He had a new determination - just to throw it in his father's face. But then again, his father would probably blame Dylan.   
  
"Hey, took you long enough," Dylan said when he returned to the room. He was sprawled on the bed, and Marco almost fainted from the fact that Dylan was in _his_ bed. Or he would've, if he didn't feel like Mt. St. Helens had just erupted inside his body. "Where're the drinks?" Dylan went on, tilting his head and looking concerned.   
  
"Uh… uh…" he stuttered, and then turned away. He quickly dabbed at his eyes, praying Dylan wouldn't catch on to the wetness. Too late. Dylan appeared by his side in a split second.   
  
"Hey, what's wrong?" Dylan asked in his most gentle, soothing voice.   
  
Choked up, Marco was afraid if he replied he would start crying. And that was absolutely the _last_ thing he wanted. Tenderly, Dylan stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Marco. He did it slowly; to make sure it was all right with Marco. He stiffened at the touch, and Dylan was about to let go. But then, he leaned into the hug and held on for what seemed to be dear life.   
  
They stayed in that position for a few more seconds, but when Marco pulled away he was much more calm.   
  
"Are you going to tell them?" Dylan asked uncertainly.   
  
The question hung heavy in the air, and Marco had no reply for it. Finally, he took a few deep breaths and looked at Dylan. His hair was falling into his eyes, much like it always was, but this time he made no attempt to brush it back. His vivid blue eyes were narrowed slightly, filled with concern. His mouth was twitched into half a smirk, half a frown, much like it always was when he was worried. Marco knew what he had to do, no matter how painful.   
  
"Yes," he said quietly, opening the door to his bedroom once more.   
  
Dylan smiled widely, following the shorter boy out the door. They once again entered the living room, where a shifty, bare silence lay. His mother and father were on separate couches now. Marco was shaking intensely with fear as his parents looked up at him.   
  
"What is it, son?" His father completely disregarded Dylan standing next to him.   
  
"Um…" He looked at Dylan, for some help. Dylan looked at him in a way that clearly meant _just do it_. "I… I need to talk to you guys."   
  
"Shoot."   
  
"Well, uh, see… recently, Ellie and I broke up," he began, getting a mild nudge from Dylan.   
  
"That's horrible!" his mother gasped, standing up and pulling him into a rough hug. "You must be devastated."   
  
"Uh… that's not all, Mama."   
  
"She's not pregnant," his mother said, her eyes as big as tennis balls and her face paling quickly.   
  
"No!" he said quickly. "No. Of course not. Um, well, the reason we broke up is, uh, 'cause I really wasn't _into_ her, you know?"   
  
"You were cheating on her?" his dad asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"No! I… didn't have feelings towards her anymore. Or, um… anyone, really."   
  
"What's your point, Marco?"   
  
"Uh…" Marco began shaking again. He had no idea what to say.   
  
"Maybe Dylan should head on home now," his father said when no one spoke.   
  
"No, Dad. He's staying. He's… he's my friend."   
  
"Dylan, would you excuse us for a second, please?" Mr. Del Rossi spoke, in fake politeness. Still silent, Dylan nodded his head and began to leave the room.   
  
"Dyl, stop. Dad, whatever you have to say to me you can say it in front of him," he argued, his cheeks heating up while he grew more furious. His Dad was just like Carlos in every aspect: big, strong, and narrow-minded.   
  
"Fine," he replied nastily. He turned to Dylan, and though Marco's mother was tugging at her husband's arm, he went on a sickeningly sweet voice, "Stay away from my son."   
  
Dylan had no idea what to do. What was he supposed to respond to that with?   
  
"Why?" Marco challenged him, drawing his arms up across his chest. He already knew the answer, of course.   
  
"Because I said so."   
  
"That's not a reason."   
  
"Fine," he repeated once more. "Want to know why? Because he's gay, Marco!" A trail of hatred washed across Mr. Del Rossi's face, and Marco loathed him for it. Dylan, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. He'd heard this way too many times before.   
  
"Well maybe I am too," Marco said quietly, with a shuddery breath.   
  
Both of his parents froze in their tracks, absolutely silent. Dylan managed to keep a smile off of his face, but he was really fighting it. And Marco was shaken up completely; had those words _really_ come out of his mouth?! His dad was going to kill him. He would never make it on a second date with Dylan.   
  
"What did you say?" His father asked just as quietly, in a hissing, cold voice that made the hairs on Marco's neck stand straight up. He'd heard Marco perfectly, of course, but he refused to believe it.   
  
"I said I was - I am gay."   
  
"I knew this would happen," he spat, his voice now loud and fearful. He advanced towards Dylan. "You turned my son queer," he yelled hoarsely. Dylan quickly took a step back.   
  
"No," he choked out. "Marco… he's - he's always been gay. This is probably hard for you to understand, but he's still your son. He's still the same Marco." By the look on his face, Dylan doubted his little psychology plan was working.   
  
When Mr. Del Rossi took another step towards Dylan, and Dylan had backed away as far as he could and was flattened against the wall, no one knew exactly what to do. Marco should have said something, but nothing was functioning correctly.   
  
When Dylan thought the worst had come, Mrs. Del Rossi had appeared by her husband's side. "Leave him alone," she ordered, her voice stern and gravelly. The last time Marco had heard his mother's voice anywhere near as cold as that was when Carlos had given Marco a surprise haircut in the middle of the night.   
  
"Your son just told you he's a faggot," he responded agitatedly, his voice smooth and round. "How can you not be upset?"   
  
"We don't to get to choose what Marco is," she said. "And neither does he."   
  
Shaking his head, Mr. Del Rossi pitched a look of revulsion at his young son, but then turned and walked out of the room. Marco and Dylan both resumed breathing.   
  
"I'm sorry, Mom," Marco whispered, tears falling freely down his face. With a small smile, she took his head in her hands.   
  
"Listen to me, Marco. Gay or straight, I will _always_ love you." She brought Marco's face towards her, and kissed his forehead lightly. "I'm proud of you," she whispered.   
  
"I love you too," he said back, wiping away his tears, somewhat self-conscious at the fact Dylan was in the room.   
  
She released Marco, and then walked over to Dylan. Leaning over, she gave him a small kiss on the cheek as well. "You treat my son right." He grinned broadly. With that, she traced her husband's trail up the stairs and left the two boys alone.   
  
"You know, I'm proud of you too," Dylan offered. Neither made any notion to come any closer to the other.   
  
"Thanks," he blushed, tears not ceasing. The words meant a lot to him.   
  
"You did the right thing," Dylan went on, striding over to Marco.   
  
"I'm not sure I did," he said, staring at the ground. "My dad… he hates me for it…"   
  
Once again, Dylan wrapped his arms around Marco's shoulders. Marco pressed his body against Dylan's, who in return put his mouth by Marco's ear. His breath was warm, and it sent chills zapping through Marco's entire body.   
  
Dylan put his thumb on Marco's cheek, tilting his head upwards to look at him. Neither said anything, until Dylan broke apart a bit. He wiped the tears off the other's cheek, smiling slightly.   
  
"So, um, you ready to go watch those movies?" Dylan asked, grinning.   
  
"Movies?" Marco echoed, puzzled. His entire body felt like it was on fire - but in a good way.   
  
"My house? With Paige and Spinner?"   
  
"Oh, right. Uh, yeah - I'm ready to go." Marco told his mom where he was going, and then the two headed out to Dylan's car, which was still parked in the driveway. They got in the car in silence, not sure what to say or do. Finally, Dylan reached over and grabbed Marco's hand. Their fingers laced together, and they left it like that for the rest of the ride.   
  
**[Journal entry 5]  
Marco del Rossi**   
  
I did it.   
  
I told my parents. With the help of Dylan. And their reactions… weren't that great. Well, my mama's was. She told me she was proud of me. And that she'd always love me. I kind of expected that, though. My mama's the _greatest_ person I know. My dad, however… He didn't take it too well. I guess it was a big surprise for him. And I knew from the start he hated Dylan.   
  
My father hates me now too. He even called me a faggot. I set myself up for disappointment, but I did **not** anticipate this. Carlos's reaction is going to be a million times worse. I know that.   
  
Why, why, why can't people be a little more open to things? I have this sinking feeling in me. Like the only way to go is down. Good thing Dylan's there to lift me back up, though. We hugged today. Twice. It was really nice.   
  
Going to his house for a small, four person party. Should be _fun_… especially with Spinner there.   
  
Sigh.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
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A/N: Woohoo, this chapter's over! I had originally written in a kiss between the two there at the end. But… I thought it might be too early.   
  
Sorry for the disappointment! I have some good conflict wrapped up for the kiss, and it won't be too long. So, until then… be patient!   
  
**Please** review. I love getting reviews!   
  
**Thankyou!**


	7. Party of Four

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.   
  
**Author's Note:** Woo, it takes so long for me to update. I need a good kick, don't I? Feel free to review -hinthint- ;D No, really, I love reviews. They make my day. Please tell me if you liked this chapter or not, constructive criticism is always good. Thankyou! Enjoy the chapter.   
  
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"What took you guys so long?" Paige asked, pulling the door open for her older brother and Marco. "Or… do I not want to know?" She smirked at her oh-so-unsubtle-hinting, and Dylan laughed.   
  
"Maybe you do, maybe you don't," Dylan teased, much like he always did. But when Marco looked up at him with wide, panicky eyes, he quickly added, "But in this case, you don't."   
  
"Too bad," Paige replied, shaking her head. She led the boys into the living room, where Spinner was sitting on the couch. He didn't say anything as the two walked in, but forced a weak smile. Dylan raised his eyebrows at the insincere gesture.   
  
"My sister so has you on a leash," he told him, looking at him in the most pathetic way he could muster. Marco snorted appreciatively.   
  
"Does not!" Spinner said quickly, looking highly offended. He brought a hand up to his head and ruffled his unruly hair, making it look worse than it already did.   
  
Paige rolled her eyes at the two, and then said to Spinner in her sweetest voice, "Honey-bee, could you get me a drink?"   
  
"Sure," he said, standing. "What kind?" The other three burst into laughter, and realization dawned on Spinner. His cheeks colored bright red and he muttered something about how he was just kidding, and sunk back into his seat.   
  
"So, we rented like ten movies. We couldn't agree on one," Paige began, motioning between her and her boyfriend. "First up: either **Mona Lisa Smile, School of Rock,** or **Cold Creek Manor**." She obviously wanted to watch **Mona Lisa Smile**, based on the way she was edging that one towards the front.   
  
"Let's see, chick flick, comedy, or horror movie," Dylan said, scratching his chin and considering. "I don't know. What do you think, Marco?"   
  
"What happened to _knowing what you like_?" he teased in return, grinning.   
  
"There's a difference between knowing what I like and choosing what I like," he explained, shooting a exasperated look at Marco.   
  
"Why do they get to choose?" Spinner objected, grumbling. "It's like three against one."   
  
"What do you mean by that, Spinner?" Dylan said, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy.   
  
"Nothing," he muttered, shrinking back again. "I just sorta figured that… you guys would want to watch, you know, the same things Paige wants. Like, uh, Mona Lisa Smile… that's all." He inched slowly away from Dylan.   
  
"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. "And this is Paige's blouse I'm wearing, too." Spinner's eyes widened greatly, obviously taking Dylan's sarcasm for truth.   
  
"You're so dense, Spin," Paige said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, what movie are we watching?"   
  
"**Cold Creek Manor** sounds good," Marco suggested, shrugging. Personally, he was terrified of scary movies… and he always needed someone to clutch during the scariest parts.   
  
"Sounds good to me." Everyone else agreed, and just as they put in the movie, the doorbell rang.   
  
"Ooh, that's the pizza. Will you get it, Dyl? Money's on the table." Paige motioned to the money, and Dylan nodded and headed to the door.   
  
He headed over to the door, and threw it open. His jaw partially dropped, and the other three stared at him curiously.   
  
"…Tom?" Dylan said, in an awed tone. Marco looked at the pizza deliverer who was obviously an old friend of Dylan's. He was an attractive young man, about Dylan's age, with messy brown hair and deep green eyes. He was tall, and thin. Marco could tell by the way they looked at each other that something had happened between the two. He vaguely remembered an ex-boyfriend Tom that one Michalchuk or the other had spoken of, and he was almost positive that he was the one.   
  
The pizza deliverer broke into a grin, and set the pizza boxes aside. Dylan leaned forward and gave him a tight hug. Marco looked at Paige, eyebrow raised, expecting an answer. Instead, Paige stood said loudly, "Tom!"   
  
"Hi Paige," the pizza guy, recently dubbed Tom, said, smiling. He then focused his attention on Dylan once more. "God, it's been so long. How've you been?"   
  
"I've been good. Yeah," Dylan said absentmindedly. "What about you?"   
  
"I'm fine." He grinned seductively.   
  
Dylan just suddenly seemed to remember that there were three others in the house, and he quickly turned around to make introductions. "You remember my sister, Paige. That's her boyfriend, Spinner," he said, casting a thumb in Spinner's general direction. "And this is my…" he stopped cold, not sure of how to introduce Marco. "My friend, Marco," he finally finished. Marco wasn't sure what to think. He glanced at Tom. "And this is Tom."   
  
"Ex-boyfriend Tom," he chuckled. Marco hated him for it. Spinner looked disgusted.   
  
"Are you… with anyone?" Dylan finally asked.   
  
Marco watched Tom's face turn into almost a bitter smile, but he smiled nonetheless. "No, not right now. Um, you?"   
  
Dylan shifted, so Marco could no longer see Tom's face. "No," he heard Dylan say. "I'm not with anybody." Marco's stomach dropped, and he felt like getting violently ill. He _knew_ he wasn't going out with Dylan, and he somewhat expected him to say no, but the way he put it so simply made him feel like crying. Instead, he stared at the ground with a crumpled face. Spinner, on the couch next to his, looked at Marco, almost as if he was feeling sympathetic.   
  
"Oh, I see," Tom said, in a much more chipper tone. "Well, that's too bad. For the guys out there, anyway." He winked. "Um, maybe we should… get together sometime. You know, if you're not too busy."   
  
"I'd… I'd love that," Dylan said with a smile. Tom grinned and hugged Dylan once more. This hug was longer, and when they pulled away both were smiling. Marco's whole body burned with jealousy. And Paige was staring at Dylan with a look on her face that was either anger or awe.   
  
"Me too. Well, enjoy your pizza," Tom said, turning and walking away.   
  
"Can you believe that?" Dylan chuckled, setting the pizza boxes on the counter.   
  
"No," Paige said, between pursed lips. "Dylan, can I talk to you for a sec.? In private?" Without receiving his consent, she grabbed his arm and yanked him into the other room and shut the door.   
  
Marco was still staring at the ground silently, willing himself to not act like an idiot and start bawling. Especially with Spinner awkwardly staring at him. Coming out to his parents had to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done. And now, this?   
  
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt the couch lower right next to him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Spinner had sat next to him. Neither knew what to say. Marco was about to change the subject, when he felt Spinner's hand on his back.   
  
He didn't know exactly was going on at first, but Spinner continued to awkwardly but loyally pat his back. Marco felt the tears start to fall, but he choked them back the best he could. Spinner's arm wrapped around his shoulders, and it was comforting in a way.   
  
The door opened once more, and Paige came marching out. Dylan followed after her, his cheeks a bit red. Quickly standing, Spinner moved back to his original seat with a look back at Marco.   
  
Dylan slid into the seat next to Marco, who in return inched away a bit.   
  
"Spinner, I need to talk to you in the kitchen," Paige said, already walking away.   
  
"But what about the pizza?"   
  
"Now!"   
  
When the two had left the room, an uncomfortable silence settled between Marco and Dylan.   
  
"Marco…" Dylan began, his voice falling out a bit.   
  
"I think I'm gonna go home," Marco mumbled, standing up and heading for the door. Instead, Dylan grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Marco was still willing himself to not cry. He didn't want to go home - that was the last place he wanted to be. Especially after coming out merely thirty minutes ago.   
  
"Marco, please don't," Dylan pleaded, not letting go of his arm. It didn't create the tingle it had merely the day before.   
  
"I'm sure Tom would be happy to keep you company," he said, his voice cold even to his own ears, surprising himself.   
  
"It's not like that. I was just surprised to see him," Dylan explained, his face begging for forgiveness. "I guess I just… got caught up in the moment."   
  
"I'm not going to lie to you Dylan. I **like** you. And… I thought you liked me too." His cheeks reddened, and his voice broke off slightly. "I mean, you… helped me come out today."   
  
"Let's take a walk," Dylan said seriously, his face unreadable.   
  
Marco debated the thought, but finally agreed. They went outside together, silently. The sun was beginning to set and there was a definite chill in the air.   
  
"Tom and I first started dating about two years ago," Dylan offered. Marco nodded numbly; that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "It was great for me, because I'd never met another gay guy before." He shoved his hands into his pockets and sort of stared off as they walked.   
  
Glancing at Dylan out of the corner of his eye, Marco realizing he was waiting a reaction. But "Oh" was all Marco could muster.   
  
Dylan's eyes fell to the ground slightly before taking in a deep breath. "The problem was… I really wasn't _into_ him that much. He's a great guy; a great friend. Just not a great boyfriend."   
  
Marco's hopes lifted greatly as he bit back a smile.   
  
"Sure, I like him and all. But not like that." Dylan paused in his stride, and gently took Marco's hand. "Not like I like you."   
  
Marco felt his cheeks gaining redness. "But what about you saying you'd love to see him again?" Marco asked, slightly choked up. Just to be on the safe side.   
  
"Marco… we're friends." He raised an eyebrow. "Just because two gay guys know each other doesn't mean their relationship can't be platonic."   
  
Smiling, Marco looked down and realized Dylan was still holding his hand. "Now," Dylan said, smiling as well. "Ready to go watch those movies?"   
  
"Sure." Holding hands still, they turned around and walked back to the house. When they got inside, Paige and Spinner were sitting on the couch, talking about a school dance coming up, and half the pizza was gone already.   
  
"There you guys are!" Paige said, exasperated. "If we don't get the movie in now, it'll be midnight before it's over." She stood and popped the movie into the DVD player.   
  
"Yeah, sorry," Dylan dismissed, brushing the complaint away with his hand. "So, what're we watching?" Smirking, he leaned over and swiped a piece of pizza off Spinner's plate and took a big bite.   
  
"Uh… I don't think you want to do that," Marco said lowly to Dylan, nodding his head at the unsuspecting Spinner. With every huge bite, small pepperoni chunks flew out of his mouth and onto the slices on the plate.   
  
Disgusted, Dylan let the pizza roll out of his mouth and splatter on the ground.   
  
"We're watching **Cold Creek Manor**," Paige replied, turning off the lights and snuggling close to Spinner, who in return put his arm around her.   
  
Dylan sat on the couch next to Paige, and Marco sat on the other side of him. The movie began, and they all watched in it silence as they munched on their pizza. It didn't begin to get scary a little bit in, and Paige started jumping at every loud sound and clutching on to Spinner for dear life. She let out little muffled screams when someone popped up on the screen, so much so that Dylan and Spinner began teasing her.   
  
Marco, however, thought it was all justified. He was just as scared, and had to refrain himself from slapping his hands over his eyes. Loud, sudden noises frightened him the most. At one point in the movie, right when the villain showed up behind a girl with a knife, both Paige and Marco shouted in surprise. Marco grabbed Dylan's arm, causing him to let out a little shout, and Paige elbowed Spinner in the side, causing **him** to yell in surprise.   
  
The four began cracking up at how stupid they must've sounded, and didn't stop laughing for a good amount of time.   
  
A little deeper into the movie, Marco sucked up his courage and leaned against Dylan. When Dylan didn't move, he got even braver and put his head on his shoulder. Grinning, Dylan put his arm around Marco's shoulders.   
  
They sat through the rest of two movies comfortably, and when Paige put the third DVD in, both Marco and Spinner were nodding off. Paige and Dylan took this as the opportune moment to have a nice, brother/sister talk.   
  
"What did you guys do?" Paige asked Dylan in a whisper, with Spinner snoring slightly next to her.   
  
"Marco came out to his parents," grinned Dylan, with the sleeping Marco leaning on his shoulder.   
  
"Really? Wow. Does this mean you guys are serious?"   
  
"I have no clue," Dylan admitted, pushing his hair out of his eyes without jostling Marco too much. "But I like him a lot."   
  
"I know you do, Dyl." Paige smiled at her older brother.   
  
"And thanks for putting me back in line when Tom came," he went on, referring to when she whisked him out of the room and told him how horrible he was making Marco feel.   
  
"It's pretty weird that he showed up," she nodded.   
  
"I know. He's a good guy, isn't he?"   
  
"Yeah. But Dad hated him," Paige giggled.   
  
"Dad hated **all** of my boyfriends. And Tom was definitely the gayest one of all."   
  
Paige laughed quietly. "I just hope he doesn't hate Marco."   
  
"Here you are, assuming Marco and I will… get together."   
  
"Oh come on Dyl, you two are constantly flirting. And Marco's way too cute for you to not like him."   
  
"So shallow," Dylan joked, shaking his head sadly. "Looks are all you think about."   
  
"Like you don't!" she objected. "You haven't had a single ugly boyfriend." She fake-pouted. "All the hot guys are gay."   
  
"Yeah, right. They're all straight!" He glanced quickly at Marco, who moved in his sleep and let his arms come to rest on Dylan's leg. "Well, not **all**."   
  
Paige giggled again, and put her head on Spinner's. "They're not **all** gay, either."   
  
Dylan looked at Spinner and shook his head. "If that's your example, you are one sad girl." She slapped him mockingly and they both laughed. "Do you think I should wake him up?" he continued, looking at Marco. He couldn't help but notice how cute he was when he slept. "I think his parents might want him home. Poor guy."   
  
"What?"   
  
"His dad gave him a pretty rough time." He frowned. "Worse than our dad, even. Called him a faggot and everything."   
  
"Ouch. His own **dad**?"   
  
"Yeah," Dylan sighed. He leaned over and gently shook Marco's shoulder.   
  
Groaning and groggily squinting his eyes open, Marco mumbled something incoherently. He suddenly sprung into realization, and lifted his head off Dylan's shoulder. Both Dylan and Paige began laughing.   
  
"What?" Marco said sheepishly.   
  
"Thanks for leaving me something to remember you by," Dylan laughed, pointing at his shoulder. There was a big wet patch of drool on his shirt.   
  
Marco's face went totally red. "Sorry," he murmured, cursing himself.   
  
"No problem." Dylan pulled the shirt off over his head, and threw it into a pile on the floor, revealing his chest. Marco let his eyes longer for a little bit too long, because embarrassed, Dylan turned away.   
  
"So, uh, do you have to be home?" Dylan asked him, then added hopefully, "Or, do you want to spend the night? I mean, you could crash on the couch… or my room, it's no big deal." Paige shoved him playfully.   
  
"Uh, sure. Just lemme call home, okay?" Dylan handed him the phone, and Marco quickly called his house. To his dismay, his dad answered the phone.   
  
"Hello?"   
  
"Erm, Dad?" Marco said fearfully, biting his lip.   
  
"Where are you?" his father demanded, in an angry tone.   
  
"I'm at a friend's house. Can I talk to Mom?"   
  
"She's sleeping."   
  
"Oh, well… I'm just gonna spend the night over here, okay?"   
  
"Over _where_?"   
  
"Dylshouse," he said quickly.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Dylan's house, Dad."   
  
"No. Come home," his father said stiffly.   
  
"No, Papa, I'm staying the night."   
  
"I said come **home**. Right now."   
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dad," Marco said, even though he wished he didn't have to. And then, regretfully and almost frightened, he hung up the phone. Without moving, he stared at the phone for a few seconds, terrified that his Dad would call back. But he didn't.   
  
"Do you need to borrow some clothes?" Dylan asked.   
  
"Yeah." He followed Dylan up the stairs and into his room. It was painted a nice light blue color, and, not to Marco's surprise, hockey pennants, trophies, posters, and other memorabilia cluttered the entire room.   
  
Still shirtless, Dylan dug into his drawers and emerged with an orange hockey t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. "They might be a bit big on you," he said apologetically. "You can change in there." He motioned to the bathroom door right outside his room.   
  
Marco headed to the bathroom and slid into Dylan's clothes. They smelled good and, like Dylan had said, were extremely large on him. He had to roll up the pants just so he wouldn't trip over them while walking, and the t-shirt's sleeves reached halfway up his wrist. Nonetheless, they were comfortable and Marco liked wearing them.   
  
When Marco got back to Dylan's room, he was pulling back the covers on his bed. He'd already changed into a pair of plaid pajama pants, but still wore no shirt.   
  
"They fit you well," Dylan laughed. He then looked from Marco to the bed. "Uh, you can sleep here. I'll sleep on the floor."   
  
"No, I'll sleep on the floor," Marco volunteered, shaking his head.   
  
"It's not comfortable," Dylan told him.   
  
"Well," Marco said slowly, biting his lip, "your bed is big. We could both fit on it…"   
  
Dylan hesitated, but then nodded. "Sounds good. You can use this blanket, and I'll get me a different one."   
  
"Okay." Awkwardly, Marco climbed into the bed and brought the covers up to his chin. They smelled a lot like the clothes; a lot like Dylan.   
  
"Comfy?" Dylan asked, reentering the room. Marco nodded his consent, and Dylan said, "Good." He got on the bed next to Marco, careful to keep his distance, and curled up into his own blanket.   
  
"Night," Marco said, grinning happily.   
  
"Night," Dylan replied, and turned out the light.   
  
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Whoo, that was a long chapter. But how was it? Tell me, please, whether you liked, loved, or hated it.   
  
I'm quite pleased with it. =)   
  
Thanks for **reading!**


	8. It All Led Up To This

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own Degrassi. If I did, this all woulda taken place right after _Pride_ premiered. =D   
  
**Author's Note:** Sorry about not updating, fellas! I got grounded from my beloved computer for a week, so I couldn't write anymore. But I _did_ brainstorm, and I'm pretty excited about this chapter. It'll be sad, I think (I hope). And… yeah, just read on! Thank you all for reviewing, SO much! Also, rocky91, I've reread the chapter many times and I can't seem to find the grammar mistakes. Maybe you could point a few out, so I don't make them again? Thank you! Also, WHOA… I got tons of reviews this chapter! Thank you all so much! Also also, because I've lacked in updating, I'm giving you a super-long chapter.   
  
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When Marco woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Yes, it did in fact still smell like Dylan, but there was also the scent of bacon and pancake batter stirred in as well. The next thing he noticed was that Dylan was no longer in the bed; that he was alone.   
  
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he glanced around the room. Dylan was nowhere in sight. Mumbling to himself, he got out of the warm bed regretfully, and strolled out of the room. He heard voices coming from downstairs, so he followed them. They led him straight to the kitchen, where Dylan was at the stove, and Paige and Spinner were seated around the table.   
  
"Morning Sleeping Beauty," Dylan teased Marco when he spotted him, grinning his trademark smile. Marco had to smile too.   
  
"What time is it?" asked Marco innocently, grinning sheepishly at Spinner and Paige and feeling foolish in Dylan's too-big clothing.   
  
"Almost noon," Paige replied, and then added with a sly smile, "Dylan's bed must have been pretty comfy, huh?" Spinner raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, shooting her a slightly nasty look.   
  
"Noon?!" Marco repeated, his jaw dropping slightly. He _never_ slept 'til noon; in fact, he was usually the first one awake at his house.   
  
"Yep. I woke up this morning at like eight, and you were completely knocked out," Dylan said. Blushing, Marco looked at the floor. "No problem, though. You looked too cute for me to wake you up." Spinner looked away, ordering himself silently to not say anything. Marco's cheeks reddened even more. "Besides, I'm making breakfast."   
  
"I didn't know you cooked," Marco said, eying the delicious-looking food hungrily. His stomach gave an involuntary rumble, and Dylan laughed at the sound. Though embarrassed, he too joined in laughing.   
  
"I'm a fantastic cook," Dylan bragged; flipping the pancake over his shoulder and catching it on a plate behind his back, just to show off.   
  
"And very modest too, obviously." Paige rolled her eyes, snatching the plate from Dylan's hands. They all laughed.   
  
"Sleep well?" Spinner asked Marco with a smirk, as he sat down at the table.   
  
"Yeah, Spin, Dyl's bed was great," he shot back. "How was Paige's? Oh wait, sorry… you wouldn't know." Dylan started cracking up at his comeback, and even Paige turned away to hide her giggles.   
  
"Funny," said Spinner dully. He, however, became noticeably silent as he picked at his pancakes.   
  
"This is great, Dyl," Paige said, through a mouthful of bacon.   
  
"Yeah, it's awesome," Marco agreed. Even Spinner nodded his head.   
  
"Why, thank you," he replied, sitting next to Marco. "Tips are appreciated." They all ate in silence for a while, until finally Dylan looked up at the other three. "Any of you guys have plans today?"   
  
"I'm taking Paige out to lunch," Spinner said smugly, putting his arm around his girlfriend. She smiled lovingly at him.   
  
"Ah, great. What about you Marco?"   
  
"Nothing so far, I guess." He shrugged. Though he _really_ didn't want to go home, he wasn't about to admit that. And besides, what if his parents had told Carlos? He was terrified of what might happen.   
  
Nodding, Dylan thoughtfully chewing his pancakes. When he swallowed, he looked at Marco seriously and said, "I have hockey practice today." Truth be told, he was worried about Marco too. He knew how vicious Carlos was. Somewhat sadly, Marco looked at his plate. "You could always hang out, you know."   
  
Glancing up at Dylan, Marco contemplated the idea. He had a strong notion that Dylan was taking pity on him. "Nah," he said, "I'll just hang out at home today."   
  
"All right," Dylan nodded, feeling bad that he had to return to his home. He knew Marco didn't want to go home, but there wasn't really anything he could do.   
  
"I should probably get home," Marco announced, with an uneasy smile.   
  
"I'll drive you," Dylan offered, standing up.   
  
"Great." He started to head towards the door, when he noticed Dylan, Spinner, and Paige were all cracking up. "What?" he asked sheepishly, blushing slightly. _What were they laughing about?_   
  
"Planning on wearing those home?" Dylan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. Confused, Marco looked down at his attire - and saw he was still wearing Dylan's clothes.   
  
"Oops," he said shyly, "guess I'll go change."   
  
"I don't know," Dylan joked. "You look pretty good in them." He winked, and then disappeared up the steps, motioning for him to follow.   
  
Marco obeyed, but not after bringing his dish to the sink and washing it off. It was a particularly annoying habit his mother forced into him, but at least it was polite. "See you guys lat-" he began to Spinner and Paige, but the couple was kissing at the table and he left them alone.   
  
When Marco finally raced upstairs, he found the door to Dylan's room was closed. What should he do? Knock? Barge right it? After a little debate in his head, he finally knocked on the door.   
  
"Come on in," Dylan's voice floated from the room. Marco opened the door, and low and behold, Dylan was standing in front of his mirror, in only a pair of boxers. Though he didn't want to, Marco adverted his eyes. Staring at the ground, his cheeks reddened. Dylan had obviously wanted him in the room, but he thought it was rude to stare. No matter how bad he wanted to.   
  
He noticed Dylan was laughing, so he forcefully brought his eyes up. Dylan hadn't put any more clothes on. Marco didn't know where to look. "Should I…?" he asked, motioning towards the door.   
  
"No, you can stay." He pulled a white t-shirt on, pausing only to swipe the golden curls out of his eyes. "Can you help me with some of my gear?" he continued, even though after many years of dressing for hockey, he was completely capable of getting ready alone.   
  
"Sure," Marco muttered, still a little bit uncomfortable. While he helped him pull some of his things on, he tried to change the subject by asking something he was dying to know. "Um… Dylan? Have you ever been, uh, attacked because… you know? Like, a personal attack?"   
  
"Well, yeah. A couple of times." He finished getting his clothes on, and turned to face Marco. When he saw how serious the younger boy was, he sat down. With a distant look in his eyes, he began talking and his voice was surprisingly flat. "In the hallways, people kept constantly tripping me. They'd grab my books and throw 'em to the ground. Shove me into lockers. Of course, I always shoved back." The two exchanged grins. "Guys would wait for me to come out of the locker room after hockey practices. My friends, though…" He paused doubtfully. "My _real_ friends, anyway, would stick around and walk with me so I didn't get ganged up on."   
  
He closed his eyes with a shuddery breath, and then opened them again. "In class, we always had to pass our homework papers forward. I sat in the back, so the guys in front of me would rip them up and I'd get a zero on the assignment. People always talked about me, and they weren't very discrete either. They called my house and left mean messages a lot, messed up my locker." He looked at Marco, whose eyes were wide with fear and unknowing. Sure, he'd gotten bashed… but it seemed like Dylan got it ten times more.   
  
"The worst time, though," Dylan went on, wringing his hands together thoughtfully, "was after a really important game. The coach wanted to talk to me, and it took **forever**… my friends were all gone by the time he stopped talking. Right when I was walking out of the locker room, someone hit me in the back of the head. I started to fall, but then the guy caught me so I figured it was an accident." Marco nodded solemnly. "I started to apologize, you know, then the guy just grinned really big and two more of them - they were from the other team - came out and circled around me. I wasn't sure what was going on."   
  
He paused slightly, the memory flooding before his eyes. It still haunted him. "I mean, they seemed pretty cool at first. The biggest one asked me to play a game of one-on-one with him, so I said what the heck. I didn't put any pads or anything on; figured I was safe. I played goalie first. Everything went fine. I blocked a few of his shots; he made a few. Then we switched positions. I was in the middle of this awesome move, when the two other guys came and tackled me. They were pretty big guys. It hurt, a lot. I hit my head on the ice, but I was still conscious. Then next thing I know, one of them is sitting on my legs."   
  
He sighed at this point, not wanting to continue. But Marco's eyes pleaded with him, so he did. "He looked at me and smirked, then said, 'My favorite game has always been smear the queer.' I eventually shoved him off me and tried to run out, but one of the guys tackled me from behind. And then they just kicked the crap out of me. They beat me with their hockey sticks, kicked me with their skates… calling me these harsh names. It was horrible."   
  
"What happened?" Marco asked in a breathless whisper.   
  
"Eventually they got bored. I stopped fighting back after I realized I couldn't win. I laid there on the ice for a while, and finally the janitor walked in and called the ambulance." He hesitated for a second, then looked at Marco and forced a smile. "People have become a lot more open now, though."   
  
"Not my brother," Marco mumbled, and Dylan had no reply to that. After a while, both boys were dressed and ready to go. They said goodbye to Paige and Spinner, and then climbed in Dylan's car and began the drive to Marco's house.   
  
"Do you want me to go in with you?" Dylan asked, looking at Marco out of the corner of his eyes.   
  
_Of course I do,_ Marco thought. _It's only going to be my huge brother slamming my head into the wall._ "Nah," he said nonetheless, shrugging. It was impossible to look at Dylan; he was afraid to see an expression on Dylan's face that he wouldn't be able to handle.   
  
"Are you sure?" The car slowed down, and Dylan glanced at the younger boy. "I know you're scared of Carlos." Marco blushed slightly. "I would be too. But you can't just -"   
  
"I'll be fine," he interrupted, before Dylan could say something that would completely embarrass him. Respectably shutting his mouth, the rest of the ride was in silence until they pulled into Marco's driveway. "Well, thanks," he said, not looking at the older boy.   
  
"I'll see you at school," Dylan replied, watching Marco concernedly with a frown plastered onto his face. "I have my cell phone if you need anything…"   
  
"I'll be fine," Marco repeated, trying to assure himself more than Dylan. "Bye." Bravely, he got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to his house. His legs felt rubbery; it felt like an hour before he'd successfully moved both legs.   
  
Just his luck; he opened the front door to his house and who was there, sitting directly in the path to his room? Carlos, of course. His hopes of escaping to his bedroom without being caught were dashed. Carlos cast a look at Marco when he entered the house, but Marco was unable to read it. _Was it hatred? Did he know? Was he planning on ripping him to pieces?_   
  
Carlos opened his mouth, and Marco flinched. The words couldn't have come out any slower. "What did you do?" Marco blinked. _What did he do?_   
  
Before he could ask what Carlos meant, Carlos was speaking again. "I came home yesterday after soccer, and Papa was extremely pissed. He started to tell me what you did, but Mama told him that if he said one more word, he was going to regret it and so Dad changed his mind. Then Ma told me that you would tell me if you wanted to." Marco stared, unsure of what to say and extremely grateful to his mother. When Marco didn't say anything, Carlos pressed, "What'd you do?"   
  
Marco decided to take this opportunity and run with it. Smirking, he began, and into his story he started using hand motions to describe his "adventure". "Well, it was me, Spinner, and Craig. Dad just came home, and threw his keys onto the table. Well, I grabbed the keys right off the table, and we went outside. His car was sitting there in the driveway, just begging for us to give it a test ride. I climbed in the front seat, and the other guys got in. Before I know it, the keys are in and the car is starting up… I guess Papa heard the noise, because he came tearing out of the house." Pausing, he glanced at his older brother and was delighted to see his eyes were as round as nickels. "I put the car in reverse, and zoomed out of the driveway, and then took off down the street! I must've been going eighty, ninety miles per hour. It was amazing! So, finally, we're at the end of a street a couple of blocks over, when a police car pulls up right next to me! Like an expert, I turned at the light and drove back to our house. The cops didn't expect a thing! We got out of the car, and Papa was _seething_. Mama calmed him down eventually, though, and I'm not even grounded."   
  
Carlos stared at his younger brother, silently, for quite a while. "Bull," he said, almost breathless. Arching an eyebrow, Marco seemed to fend off his brother's doubt. Then after a little while, he burst into laughter.   
  
"I totally had you going!" he laughed, and his brother's eyes narrowed.   
  
"Did not."   
  
"You so believed me!" Still chuckling, he headed up to his room.   
  
"No, really," Carlos said from behind him. "What did you do?"   
  
"Nothing big. I…" he hesitated. What would satisfy Carlos? "I failed a test in algebra."   
  
He didn't have to look at Carlos to tell how disappointed he was with the answer. He was obviously hoping for some large scandal. But rather than continuing, he shrugged slightly. "Where'd you run off to last night?"   
  
"I spent the night at a friend's house."   
  
"Whose?" Hesitating, Marco though about telling the truth, but decided against it.   
  
"Spinner's."   
  
"Oh." Marco turned to leave once more, but Carlos began talking again. "Listen… you still hang out with that Michalchuk guy?"   
  
Once again, Marco debated the idea of telling him yes, of course, that they were now closer than ever. But truth be told, he was afraid his brother was going to draw up a conclusion about him. "Nah, not really."   
  
Carlos's face dawned a look of relief. "Good," he said, and then grinned meanly. "So, uh, Marco, would you wanna tag a locker with me and a couple of guys before school tomorrow?"   
  
Though Marco already knew he wouldn't, he asked, "Whose locker?" just to act interested.   
  
"Some kid," Carlos shrugged. "Been giving us… a couple problems."   
  
"Oh, well, I've got… stuff to do." He shrugged like he was frustrated that he couldn't join in on their vandalizing act, and then quickly added, "Sorry."   
  
"No problem. Look, you won't tell anyone, right?"   
  
"Course not."   
  
"Promise?"   
  
Marco uncertainly nodded, a little baffled. His brother was staring at him intensely. "Yeah, I promise."   
  
"Good."   
  
And Marco continued up the stairs, relieved that Carlos still didn't know _his_ secret, but also confused about Carlos's.   
  
"Welcome home, son," said a cold voice before Marco could reach his room. He looked at his father fearfully, wondering where his mom was.   
  
"H-hi Dad," he said in a shaky voice. "Lots of homework… better get started…"   
  
"Did you have fun with your friend?"   
  
"Y-yeah, it was okay."   
  
"Whom were you staying with again?" his dad asked, in an almost sneering tone. _Be brave, Marco_, he thought to himself, but he couldn't stop shaking.   
  
"Dylan," he tried to say, but his voice came out as a soft whisper.   
  
"Right. Your… boyfriend?" Marco whipped his head around, and thankfully, Carlos wasn't within earshot.   
  
"No, Papa. He's not." His voice was more clear now. "But I won't stop hanging out with him."   
  
"Do whatever you want. But do not even think about bringing him into my home."   
  
He didn't know what to say, other than, "Okay." He watched his dad turn and walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, as if it was someone else that he had addressed rather than his own son, his own flesh and blood. Tears stung his eyes, and a rage flowed through his veins. And then he spoke, and he was sure of what he was saying.   
  
"You know what, Dad?" His father didn't turn around to face him; he merely glanced over his shoulder. "I'm your son. I'm always gonna be your son - and I'll always be your," he dropped his voice, "gay son. Whether or not you like it. Whether or not you like me. But you're going to have to deal with it, because… there's nothing you can do about it."   
  
His father opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then closed it after a second and continued walking. Finally reaching in his room, he grabbed his homework, like he said he would. The first thing he pulled out was his journal, which needed updating. Hurriedly, he turned to an empty page and chewed on the cap of his ink pen, thinking.   
  
**[Journal Entry 6]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
Carlos still doesn't know. I'm so relieved by this, because I honestly don't know what I'll do if he finds out. My dad's still acting really mean about it; I just hope he'll eventually get over it. My mama was the one who told my papa not to tell Carlos. About me, I mean. I'm really glad I have such an understanding mother.   
  
Last night was a lot of fun. Well, I was a little bit worried when Tom the Pizza Boy showed up. He and Dylan seemed pretty close… turns out they used to date a while back. But Dylan reassured me that he didn't like Tom anymore… in fact, he went as far as saying he liked ME! I won't go too far into details, but I'll just say we held hands. We also watched movies… and I was pretty embarrassed when I found out I drooled on his shoulder.   
  
Fortunately, though, this meant he had to get a new shirt… and he wasn't very discrete about taking the old one off. And this morning, I went in his room and he was standing in just boxers. I'm sorry, but he is so cute.   
  
Why I'm writing this in a journal that my teacher will read I do not know. Truth is, I kind of like writing in this journal now.   
  
I'll stop now, I guess. Time's up!   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
Standing, Marco left the journal on his desk and moved over to the computer. He casually signed onto his messenger, and glanced at the list. Paige and Spinner weren't on; they were at lunch. Dylan, of course, wasn't on; he was at hockey. Ellie, however, was online.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Hey, El!   
  
**NOLabels:** Hey Marco. Where were you last night? I tried to call.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Dylan's… :-D   
  
**NOLabels:** Wow!! Did you… do anything?   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Nah, nothing like that… except hold hands.   
  
**NOLabels:** Awesome! You guys are so perfect for each other.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Heh. Don't get too excited yet. We're hanging this week, though.   
  
**NOLabels:** Can't, sorry. Plans with Sean.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Ahh. Girl's in love!   
  
**NOLabels:** :-P Actually, I gotta go soon. Supposed to be meeting him.   
  
At this point, Marco's mother began calling for him from down the hall. He smirked at the timing.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** I have to go, too. Bye!   
  
**NOLabels:** Bye. Have fun!   
  
They both signed off; Ellie stood from her computer to get ready with Sean, while Marco dashed down the hallway to his mother's needs. Unfortunately, his journal was left in the middle of the table, which he soon forgot completely about.   
  
-----   
  
"Mom?" Ellie called, walking into the living room. To her great surprise, her mom was on the couch, sitting normally, and reading. She wasn't sure of what came as a greater shock… the fact that there were no empty liquor bottles, or that her mom was reading.   
  
"What is it, Ellie?" her mom asked, smiling warmly at her daughter. Ellie was completely confused.   
  
"Uh… what's going on?"   
  
"What do you mean?" her mother asked innocently, blinking like she had no clue. "You know, your father will be home tonight."   
  
She finally understood - her mom always stopped getting so drunk when her father was around. Her face lit up at the terrific news. "That's great! Um, can I meet Sean for lunch?"   
  
"Of course you can! Do you need some extra money?"   
  
"Sure, Mom." She smiled and accepted the bills that her mother handed her, and then dashed out of the house before she could change her mind. As she was walking, she glanced at her arm attire. The black-and-pink striped arm stocking was a bit loose; she'd have to remind herself to adjust it continuously, or else the slowly fading scars would be apparent.   
  
She walked the rest of the way, with a slight bounce in her step. She hadn't cut herself for a little while; life was pretty good, now that she had Sean. And now with her dad coming home, family problems would vaporize.   
  
This time, Ellie beat Sean to the restaurant. She casually hung by the door, until he finally arrived. To her dismay, Jay and Towerz were also walking with him.   
  
"Uh, Ellie," Sean said, introducing them even though they'd already met. "This is Jay and Towerz. Guys, this is Ellie. My girlfriend." She smiled at the term, and the other two guys scoffed.   
  
"Are they…?" Ellie asked, but she didn't have to go much farther.   
  
"Nah, they're leaving. Right guys?" When Sean only got two dirty looks, he added, "_Right?_" Sneering, they nodded and disappeared into a small store across the street.   
  
Sean moved in to kiss her, and she gratefully accepted the action. Their kiss didn't last that long; they soon broke apart and entered the restaurant, both beaming.   
  
"How's life?" Sean asked, after they had ordered their drinks.   
  
Ellie smiled genuinely at him, and answered truthfully, "It's been… good. Really good. My dad's coming home tonight, so my mom is… well, not being her usual self. You know? It's great having her back like this."   
  
"Cool."   
  
"And how are you, Mr. Cameron?"   
  
"I'm alive." He shrugged. "Tracker's had tons of girls over… he kicks me out when they're there, so I've been hanging over at Jay's lately."   
  
"Oh," Ellie said, frowning slightly.   
  
"It's all good though." He reached over and pulled both of her hands into his and grinned, once more. "Have a date for the dance coming up?"   
  
"I have a feeling I do now," she said, but all of a sudden, Sean stopped smiling. Looking alarmed and feeling self-conscious, she said, "What's wrong? What's the matter?"   
  
He didn't say anything, but let go of her hands. He then reached across the table, until his hands were grazing Ellie's arm. Looking down, she saw her skin was visible, as well as the scars. Her cheeks reddened and she tried to jerk away.   
  
"Those are new scars," Sean said softly. "Those weren't there last week."   
  
"I… I cut myself on glass," she lied lamely, her eyes prickling with tears.   
  
Sean, however, brushed away the lie. "Ellie, have you been… cutting yourself?"   
  
Unknowing what to say, she let a few of the tears stroll down her face. When Ellie didn't say anything, Sean learned forward and pulled down the arm stocking a bit. Tons of scars - some overlaying each other - aligned her pale skin. They were both speechless.   
  
"Why would you do that to yourself?" he asked in a doubtful voice.   
  
Silently crying, she pulled the cotton back up over her arm. "I have to go."   
  
"Ellie, please. Don't."   
  
"I have to. Bye, Sean." She got up in a hurry and left. Grumbling something, Sean threw some money down on the table and took off out the door after her.   
  
-----   
  
It turned out that all Marco's mother needed help with was carrying groceries inside. Grudgingly, he did as he was told. However, when they were finished, he approached his mom.   
  
"Thanks, Mama," he said in a soft whisper, knowing she knew what he meant.   
  
"Anything for you," she smiled back, and kissed his cheek.   
  
The rest of the weekend went by sort of slowly; he talked to Ellie on the phone a little, and Carlos didn't say anything more of his tagging plans. Monday morning, however, when he woke up, he discovered Carlos had already left - along with the spray paint cans from the garage.   
  
His mother asked if he knew where Carlos was, but Marco kept his promise and assured her he had just left early to meet up with some friends.   
  
He ate breakfast, and his mom gave him a ride to school. When he got there, he decided to go up and talk to Dylan. He entered the school building, and when he reached the hallway Dylan's locker was in, there was a great mob of people surrounding something.   
  
Curious, he shoved and grunted his way through the crowd, until with great horror he saw what had happened. Dylan wasn't in sight; however, his locker was the object of every student's attention. Spray painted in bright bold red letters, was the word: "Homo". He knew, without doubt, it was his brother's dirty work. He saw Carlos and Tim, doubled over in laughter and pointing at the locker victoriously.   
  
Absolutely furious, he stormed over to them. "What the hell did you do?!" he shouted, and the whole hallway grew quiet.   
  
"Relax," Carlos said, between laughs. "It wasn't _us_. We were with you this morning. Remember?" His eyes flashed dangerously, and Marco backed down a bit.   
  
"Besides," Tim added loudly, "Carlos said you got smart and stopped hanging around the queer."   
  
Dylan Michalchuk couldn't have picked a better time to appear in the hallway. He heard every word that Tim said, and looked sadly at Marco. That was, until his eyes adverted to his locker. Face growing bright red, he knew somehow it was probably Marco's brother and his friend. But when he saw Jay and his gang cracking up and ridiculing Dylan loudly, he wasn't positive.   
  
"Just shut up!" Marco snapped at Tim, feeling like crying.   
  
Dylan, of course, was used to this treatment, so he wasn't about to burst out in tears. What Tim said, however, hurt his feelings. Had Marco really said that? He wasn't exactly the shyest guy in the world, either, so he approached Carlos, Tim, and Marco. When he spoke, though, his words were directed to Marco. "Did he…?"   
  
Almost sadly, Marco glanced at the locker and to Carlos, who was shooting discrete daggers at him with his eyes. "N-no," he said softly. "Carlos and Tim were at my house this morning. We came to school together." Dylan stared at him for a few seconds, but he was ready to believe anything Marco said. So, glaring, he shoved past Jay and headed for his locker.   
  
Every whisper in the hall was about him; he heard almost everyone of them, too. Silent, Dylan started fiddling with the lock on his locker. He thought this was done. He thought it was over. Bravely, Marco came and stood next to Dylan.   
  
"I'm really sorry about this, Dyl," he said truthfully. "I had no idea…" Marco's name was getting thrown into the student's conversations as well now.   
  
"Yeah," Dylan said angrily, sighing as he shoved books into the locker aggressively. "You had no idea this could happen to the school fag, right?"   
  
"That's not what I meant…"   
  
"I know, Marco." The first bell rang, and the crowd of people began to thin out as they headed to their own lockers.   
  
Still laughing, Tim and Carlos turned to leave as well, but not before coughing, "Homochuk!" loudly and falsely.   
  
He closed the locker door, and stared at the word "homo". He hated that word, and every negative comment that came with it. Heatedly, he began swiping at the paint with his sleeve, but that did no good. The word was still there. "Guess I should go tell Raditch."   
  
"I'll go with you," Marco offered, feeling it was the least he could do. The secret that his brother was the one who did it burned a hole in his heart, and he couldn't have been anymore pissed at Carlos if he tried.   
  
"It was probably Jay and them. They've always been doing this kind of crap."   
  
"Yeah," Marco said, kind of emptily. The second bell rang, and they were the only two in the hallway. "I don't want that to happen to me," he confessed, his thoughts on Carlos.   
  
"I'll be honest with you Marco… it probably will. But you've got great friends, and they're there for you. And don't forget you've got me." He grinned at the younger boy.   
  
"How could I forget that?" Marco said, grinning back. He did a quick search of the area, and no one was in site. "I like you, Dylan. I know you know I like you. But now… it's getting really hard to… to…"   
  
"Control?"   
  
Marco nodded at the word, feeling a little embarrassed.   
  
"I know what you mean." He stared at Dylan, surprised that he had said that.   
  
"Really?"   
  
"Yeah. Marco? I like you, too." Without another word, Dylan leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Fireworks shot through Marco's mind excitedly; brilliant colors flashed before his eyes. He put a hand on Dylan's cheek and kissed him back. For fear of getting caught, after a little while, they pulled back, grinning widely at each other.   
  
Marco couldn't believe what had just happened. Smiling, Dylan took his arm and they continued their walk to the office in silence.   
  
He thought about telling his mother what Carlos had done, but he'd made a promise not to tell anyone. The promise finally made sense to him. He hated the word, and he hated Carlos, but he could yell later.   
  
For now, everything was right.   
  
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WHOO, I finally finished a chapter! With a kiss, and everything! Aren't you proud?   
  
Well, then, review and tell me so! :-D   
  
Thanks again to everyone who reads **and** reviews! Wouldn't be doing this without you. Anyway, tell me if you liked this monstrous chapter, hated it, loved it, I dunno, just tell me!   
  



	9. The Truth

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own Degrassi. If I did, this all woulda taken place right after _Pride_ premiered. =D   
  
**Author's Note:** Haha, I must be the worst updater ever. I mean, I bet I set a record with how slow I am. Gosh. Sorry, guys. Well, anyone, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed writing it. As always, please review!   
  
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"You don't have to come with me," Dylan repeated once more, pulling open the heavy wooden door and standing aside so Marco could go through first.   
  
"I know," Marco answered, walking through and then waiting up for Dylan. He had a somewhat secret, permanent smile on his face, which was obviously contagious because every time Dylan glanced at him, he broke out into a grin as well.   
  
"Hello, Dylan," a middle-aged secretary greeted him, familiar with him for the countless number of times he'd come to the office due to ridicule. She smiled brightly up at him, but then frowned as she pushed her thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Something wrong?"   
  
"Hi, Mrs. Rieselman." Hesitating, he looked down at Marco and then back up to the concerned secretary. "Everything's… okay. I just need to, uh, talk to Mr. Raditch."   
  
"All right, boys, you can go right through. Door's open."   
  
"Thank you." They followed her long fingernails to an open door, but Dylan paused anyway and rapped on it with his knuckles. From inside the office at his computer, Raditch looked at the boys. At the sight of the older one, he set his mouth in a straight line and beckoned them in.   
  
"Mister Michalchuk, Mister del Rossi," he greeted them, nodding. They sat down in uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk. Bouncing his legs slightly up and down, Marco felt nervous for some reason. Was Dylan going to actually tell Raditch that some immature kids spray-painted the word "homo" on his locker? Thinking it over, he realized he would never have the guts to do that. Dylan, on the other hand, was much braver.   
  
"What seems to be the problem?" The principal looked tired already, as though he'd gone through this one too many times. Which made Marco think he probably had.   
  
"Locker troubles," Dylan replied nonchalantly. He was a pro at this.   
  
"What is it this time?"   
  
"_Homo_. Spray paint." The words came out of Dylan's mouth so easily that Marco stared in wonderment. Raditch, on the other hand, looked unfazed.   
  
He sighed, "I see." Turning his attention to Marco suddenly, he raised an eyebrow. "Were you involved?"   
  
"Uh, well, n-not really."   
  
"Marco and I think we know who did it," Dylan threw in, and the principal looked relieved.   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Ja-"   
  
"It wasn't Jay!" Marco blurted, and Dylan looked at him in surprise. He raised an eyebrow and sort of shrugged off a bit.   
  
"Y-you know who did it?" Dylan asked slowly, looking baffled.   
  
"Uh, uh, well, n-no…" He was a terrible liar.   
  
"Mr. del Rossi, I'd like to remind you this is a great offense. Dylan has gone through this many times before, though I'm sure you can't imagine the extent of it." If Marco's body wasn't completely tense, he would have snorted, or chuckled, or at least done _something_. Instead, he remained silent as Raditch continued, "And I do hope you aren't trying to protect anyone."   
  
"I don't know who did it," Marco said, adverting his eyes to the ground. "I just know it wasn't Jay and them."   
  
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Dylan asked him, completely blocking out Raditch.   
  
"I was, um, a little caught up in the moment, I guess." Uncomfortably, Marco looked at Raditch out of the corner of his eye. The principal was obviously not trying to interfere, but he looked a little embarrassed himself. "I c-can't get Jay into trouble for something he didn't do, though. I… I'm sorry."   
  
He looked so miserable that Dylan couldn't even possibly attempt to be angry with him. "It's all right," he said, nodding slightly. "So," he went on, turning to face the principal, "I just really need that cleaned off."   
  
"Yes, of course," Raditch replied, standing. "We'll find out who did this. Go on to class. Mrs. Rieselman will write you a note."   
  
"Thanks."   
  
Absolutely silent, Marco and Dylan left the office after picking up their notes. Neither knew what to say. "Are you all right?" Dylan finally asked, looking at the younger boy seriously. Somewhat bewildered, Marco glanced up at him. "I mean, the kiss didn't freak you out or anything, did it?"   
  
"No!" Marco said quickly, fervently shaking his head. "It was great."   
  
Looking relieved, he said, "Good." And then after only a slight hesitation, "I'm going to hang out with Tom Friday night."   
  
If there was one thing that could have sunk Marco's self-confidence, that was it. He lowered his head to the ground, eyes pointed downwards, and silent. But when Dylan continued speaking, he felt much better.   
  
"And I want you to go with me."   
  
"Ar-are you sure? You don't have to invite me just because you feel sorry for me…" Immediately, he stopped talking. He was afraid Dylan would take back his offer. Laughing, Dylan nodded, his golden curls bouncing in his eyes.   
  
"I'm positive, Marco." He smiled widely. "Uh, we better get to class." Almost snapping out of a trance, Marco realized he was right and nodded.   
  
"Where you headed?" Dylan asked.   
  
Marco pointed to a hallway ahead of them, and Dylan nodded.   
  
"I'm going the opposite direction."   
  
"All right. Uh, talk to you later?"   
  
"You're welcome to sit by me at lunch."   
  
A smile tugged at Marco's lips, though he tried his best to remain nonchalant. "I'll think about it," he teased, and then resumed walking.   
  
"See ya."   
  
"Bye." Marco made his way through the deserted hallways, until he reached Miss Kwan's room. He entered the room and handed her the note, then sat in his usual seat by Ellie.   
  
"Where were you?" she asked in a quiet whisper, raising an eyebrow.   
  
Rather than answering her question, he surveyed her with a large grin. "_He kissed me!_" he mouthed silently, and her jaw dropped slightly.   
  
"How was it?" she asked, excited for her best friend but somewhat jealous of Dylan. She still had feelings for Marco - she always would, she presumed. Of course, they were somewhat burned down and hardly ever surged inside her, besides now.   
  
"It was amazing!" He paused, a look of amazement dawning on his boyishly excited face. "I went to the office with Dylan," he continued, and her arched eyebrow rose further.   
  
"To do _what_?"   
  
"Someone vandalized his locker," he told her, but he had a strong notion to tell her it was Carlos and Tim. He couldn't, though. Just couldn't bring himself to do it.   
  
"Oh," she replied softly, looking somewhat disappointed.   
  
Marco opened his mouth to say something else, but from the front of the room, Kwan snapped, "Marco, Ellie! Stop talking, unless you'd like some more work to do." Shaking their heads, they returned to the worksheets on the desks in front of them and began diligently working.   
  
Quite suddenly, Kwan called attention to her by speaking sharply. "Has everyone been keeping up with their journals?" There was a murmur in the class of scattered yes's and several students nodded their heads. "Good. Please take those out." Marco swiveled around in his seat and dug into his bag, emerging with the notebook. He had nearly forgotten it that morning; he was halfway out the door before he remembered he had left it on his desk.   
  
Racing up to his room, he was horrified to discover that it had been left open, where anyone could have read it. He was very thankful no one had.   
  
"Now," Kwan continued, and a silence fell upon the class once more, "I have read everyone's entries. I am very interested in them - but rather than me telling you what I feel, I'd like a peer to do that. So, everyone will partner up and read **one** of their entries to their partner, and then discuss them." Eyes widening, Marco's stomach did a flip-flop. He tore through the journal madly, but discovered that each and every entry was about the topic he would rather keep to himself.   
  
To his dismay, Spinner, trying to be a good friend, sauntered up to him. "Wanna be partners?" he asked, and then looked over at Paige as she nodded her approval.   
  
"Uh, uh -" Marco stuttered, scanning his brain for a liable excuse.   
  
At that exact moment, unfortunately for Marco, Ms. Kwan overheard Spinner and she stepped forward. "That's a wonderful idea, Gavin." Marco was stuck. She winked at him as she passed, and Spinner sat in the seat next to him.   
  
"You wanna go first?"   
  
"No," Marco said quickly, "you can." It helped that Spinner was a slow reader - maybe they would run out of time, therefore leaving him without a chance to go. Either that, or he had time to devise a plan.   
  
"'Kay." He flipped open his entry, and began reading tonelessly.   
  
_"Me and the guys had band practice today. We finally got a name, and it's kicking: Downtown Sasquatch. Uh, I'm not exactly sure what it means or why it's our name, but Craig came up with it so it's cool. Oh, speaking of Craig, I still can't believe he got Manny pregnant. It was like last year that she could have passed as his sister but she "matured" more now. But Ash dumped his butt, because he was a cheater, I just think it's too bad he got caught…"_   
  
Marco unfocused his attention at this point, and stared down at his journal. Glancing over at his shoulder, he willed Ellie to look up. She could help him. But she was reading something about her mother's alcohol reformation, while Jimmy listened, nodding. He looked over to Paige, but she was explaining by way of journal entry about her amazing date the other night with Spinner to Hazel. Sighing, he returned to his partner.   
  
_"And I'm pretty sure Jimmy and Hazel are hookin' up now, 'cause they're like all over each other. That's pretty cool, I guess, since Jimmy hasn't had a girl since Ashley. Me and Paige are cooler than ever. We went to a movie the other day, but I don't even know what it's about. Let's just say thank God for a dark room and back row seats. Her brother Dylan…"_   
  
Marco's head snapped up at the mention of Dylan, and he began listening intently to what Spinner had to say.   
  
_"…has been hounding me big time. He's trying to be the protective brother 'n' everything, but man he's got to lay off! He loves to treat me like I'm stupid. I dunno, but it don't bother me. Anyway, now that him and Marco are hanging out more, he's laid off some."_   
  
Marco could hardly suppress a grin, but Spinner looked up. "That's all," he reported. Once again, Marco's stomach gave a great jolt. "Your turn," Spinner continued pointedly, when Marco didn't do anything.   
  
"Right." Gulping, he meekly opened his journal. That's when a brilliant idea hit him. Smiling inwardly, he turned to a blank page, and began talking, acting as though he were reading a journal entry.   
  
_"Not a lot has been going on in my life. I went to the park yesterday to play soccer with Carlos. Some of his friends were there, and Carlos and I were on separate teams. We killed their team - and I had a hat trick! My mama also took me to the mall a couple of days ago, to buy new shoes. I got brown ones, with laces."_   
  
He paused, looking up at Spinner. His face was contorted into a look, mixed of boredom and surprise that he wasn't hearing Marco gushing about Dylan. Thinking his plan was foolproof, Marco continued talking.   
  
_"I went to dinner at this Italian restaurant with my parents. I ordered a large plate of spaghetti, with extra meat sauce. What can I say, I love pasta. It was really good, and the restaurant had the best breadsticks ever there. My dad also brought home this movie. It was all in Italian, with subtitles. The plot was great though - a, um, um,"_ Marco hesitated for only a split second, before catching himself, _"a poor waiter at this restaurant that fell in love with the beautiful daughter of the owner, a very rich woman… It had a very nice ending, too."_   
  
Sighing happily, he closed the journal and squeezed it against his chest. Spinner zapped out of his stupor, and murmured, "Sounds like a fun day." Marco stifled a chuckle until he glanced up, and saw Kwan frowning down at him. Okay, so she'd heard his made up entry. He quickly adverted his eyes, and he felt his cheeks grow hot.   
  
Kwan's eyes darted into his back, and he could feel them burning holes. He didn't know what to do. But thankfully, the lunch bell rang and he slumped into the crowd of people as he left the classroom.   
  
After Marco paid for his food from the line, he glanced around the cafeteria nervously. He saw Dylan sitting at a table with a couple of extra seats near him, though he was surrounded by his hockey friends. It was obvious they were having a heated discussion at the moment, and just by lip-reading he knew it was about some professional goalie. Tray in hand, Ellie came up behind him. "Sit with me?" he asked, nearly whimpered in a fake voice, as he motioned towards Dylan.   
  
Sighing, she indecisively glanced between her best friend, and Sean, who was sitting alone. She'd avoided him since he'd confronted her about her scars, but she was still undeniably smitten with him. "Pleeeease?" Marco begged, frowning.   
  
Finally, she gave in and begrudgingly followed him, as he nervously approached the table. When they finally arrived next to the table, they heard Dylan say, "Marsbury is the worst goalie there is! I mean, you'd think he thought the point of the game was to let the pucks go by!"   
  
Glaring at Dylan, the kid across from him shot back, "He's won so many games for his team it's not funny. The only time the other teams score is when it's safe enough to concentrate mainly on offense."   
  
"Even when they're down, though, their defense sucks…" threw in the boy to the left of Dylan, and Dylan conceitedly nodded his agreement.   
  
He began to make another point, but he glanced up and saw Marco, who looked completely clueless, standing by Ellie. "Oh, hey guys!" he said, smiling. He then turned to his hockey buddies, pointing them out as he said their names. "This is Brad, Jeff, Michael, Ty, and Scott." He then flourished his hand at the younger students. "And this is Marco and Ellie."   
  
"Oh yeah," smirked the kid named Michael. "We've definitely heard about Marco." It was hard to tell who blushed more - Dylan or Marco. _Did he tell them about the kiss? What if they tell other people? What if it gets to **Carlos?!**_ Marco worried.   
  
"Have a seat," Dylan continued, despite his red face, pointing to the open seats near them. They gratefully accepted, and listened intently while the hockey discussion continued. At one point though, Dylan turned to Marco.   
  
"What do you think, Marco? You're a Maple Leafs fan, right?"   
  
He was trapped. He'd already said he was, and there was no going back now. "Um, yeah," he said, looking around nervously.   
  
"Marco and I both think that their offense is strong, but they do need to focus on defense. Especially McCabe, he doesn't rotate enough," Ellie said matter-of-factly, saving Marco's butt. He gaped at her, though numbly nodded his agreement.   
  
Looking impressed, Dylan and his hockey buddies grinned. "You guys are so right. I never really paid enough attention to McCabe, but now that I think of it… he _doesn't_ rotate enough."   
  
"So, Marco," Ty began smugly, resting his head on his hands. "You're a Grade Ten?"   
  
He nodded.   
  
"How'd you meet Dylan?"   
  
Marco was annoyed. He felt like they were Dylan's parents, interrogating him before he could leave the house with their son. He was more embarrassed than anything, and Dylan was embarrassed for him. "Lay off of him," he scolded his friends, shaking his head in a laughing way.   
  
"We're just curious is all," Jeff said.   
  
"Yeah, we're looking out for your best interests. What do you plan on being when you grow up, Marco?" Brad asked, stifling laughter.   
  
"I dunno," he answered sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. Rolling his eyes, Dylan shoved Brad away with his elbow.   
  
"Don't listen to them," Dylan advised, shaking his head. "No offense, guys, but Marco and Ellie here actually have more than one brain cell. Much too complex for you all."   
  
"Look at him, sticking up for the guy already," Jeff laughed. Joining in the laughter, Dylan rolled his eyes. Marco continued to blush. Ellie giggled slightly.   
  
"Wait, your older brother isn't Carlos del Rossi, is he?" Ty said suddenly, eyes growing slightly wide. The other guys, obviously not having made the connection between the brothers, looked at him uncertainly as well.   
  
"Yeah," Marco sighed. "Yeah, he is."   
  
The whole table grew silent, as Dylan looked uncomfortably at all of his friends. Scott opened his mouth to speak, closed it, looked at Dylan, then at Marco, and finally spoke.   
  
"You mean, he doesn't care that you're…?"   
  
"Uh, actually, he, um, doesn't exactly know…" Marco said, staring hard at the table below him.   
  
They all raised an eyebrow discretely to Dylan, who simply shrugged it off. "Marco will tell him when he's ready. Until then, keep it quiet," he instructed, and the guys nodded once more.   
  
"Well, it's not like he gets to choose who is brother is," Ellie defended her best friend. "Marco hates him probably just as much as you guys do."   
  
"Yeah. That sucks. I remember him and his friends kicked the crap outta Ty last year," Michael laughed, and Ty hit him hard in the shoulder.   
  
"It was like, ten on one. You can't blame me."   
  
"You were down and crying in like five seconds!"   
  
"You think the Buds' defense is bad, you shoulda seen Ty's!" Brad joked, doubling over in laughter.   
  
"Funny," Ty said dryly. "Really hilarious."   
  
They continued on talking for the rest of the lunch hour, each enjoying themselves fully. Marco was really interested in what they had to say (despite all the hockey mumbo-jumbo that he didn't understand). They all were pretty great guys.   
  
Marco went home that day in a fairly good mood. Carlos asked him about Marco keeping his secret many times that week, but besides that, there were few fallouts. Carlos obviously trusted him enough that he kept mostly out of his business. Marco was relieved to find there was no way Carlos knew about his own secret. He and Ellie sat with Dylan almost every day, and the conversations were new and exciting each time. Friday, the day he would spend with Dylan… and Tom, came relatively soon.   
  
Marco opened his locker that morning, getting all of his books for the first few classes. After he collected them, he turned around quickly, and ran right into Dylan.   
  
"Sorry!" he apologized, bending down to pick up his books that had fallen. His stomach still got that jittery feeling every time he looked at Dylan.   
  
"It's okay! Um, I just wanted to clarify our plans for tonight."   
  
"Yeah, sure."   
  
"So, I'll give you a ride?" Dylan asked. "Right after school?"   
  
"Yeah, I'd rather not go home." _Because Carlos is there, and I don't need the grilling._   
  
"All right. We're meeting Tom for dinner fairly early, and then on to the independent film festival," explained the older of the two, smiling brilliantly.   
  
Marco contemplated a question he'd been meaning to ask. Finally, he gave in and said, "Uh, Tom _does_ know I'm coming, right?"   
  
Hesitating slightly, Dylan slowly nodded. "I mentioned it."   
  
"Is… he bringing anyone?" Marco asked doubtfully.   
  
"Nope. Just us three. That doesn't bother you, does it?" He searched Marco's face, looking somewhat guilty.   
  
"No," Marco lied, his heart falling. "That's fine." He was somewhat excited still, of course, because he'd be with Dylan. He was slightly worried, though - he knew Tom still had feelings for Dylan.   
  
"Good. See you later!" He gave Marco's shoulder a slight squeeze, and then disappeared into the mob of people. Marco watched him walk off, with a big smile on his face.   
  
**[Journal Entry 7]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
So, I met Dylan's friends earlier this week. They're all really nice. Ellie and I sit by them and Dylan at lunch a lot lately. It's great. I've gotten to know Dylan really well. I've never felt like this about anyone - I don't know if it's love, but I think it might be. Life's pretty good right now.   
  
Carlos has no clue. I'm really happy about this. He was thanking me a lot the other night, for not telling about him messing up Dylan's locker. I told him, in a discrete way, how pissed I was at him. He asked why, and all I said was, "That was a low thing to do." Yeah, I could've, and should've, defended Dylan better, but I can't let Carlos know.   
  
I'm going out with Dylan and his ex-boyfriend Tom later today. I'm **so** nervous - what if Tom and Dylan end up hooking up?! I **can't** let that happen. I guess if I want to keep Dylan, I'll have to play dirty. Which is what I'll do, as a last resort. I don't know, maybe they're both completely over each other. We'll see tonight!   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
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Please review! Thanks guys! 


	10. The Date To End All

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own Degrassi. If I did, this all woulda taken place right after _Pride_ premiered. =D   
  
**Author's Note:** I have **THE** greatest reviewers ever! I mean, seriously, I read all these WONDERFUL reviews and my gosh, it made me so happy! Therefore, I am writing this chapter as quickly as possible, just because you guys are all that great! This chapter should be fun. I can't wait to portray Tom as a jerk to Marco. More Ellie/Sean, too. :)   
  
Okay, well, I've finished this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Please do not feel at all hesitant to give me criticism (But try to be constructive, please?) because God knows I need it. So, please review and all that good stuff. Thank you kindly!   
  
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"Let me get this straight," Ellie said, raising her eyebrows at Marco. "Today you are going on a date -"   
  
"It's _not_ a date!" Marco protested, but she didn't listen to him. This one-sided argument seemed to happen way too often for his liking.   
  
" - with your boyfriend - "   
  
"He is _not_ my boyfriend!"   
  
" - and _his_ ex-boyfriend?" Turning away from her locker, she stared at her best friend in disbelief. "That is just an equation for disaster."   
  
"It's not so bad," he shrugged slightly, wishing Ellie could leave him with a positive outlook rather than the terrified feeling he'd already had.   
  
"Not so bad?" she repeated, blinking. "Didn't you tell me Tom still wants Dylan?"   
  
"Well… yeah. I mean, I think so. I -- I don't know." Staring at the ground, he sighed. _**Why** did I agree to this? Something bad is going to happen. Something bad **always** happens._ Wanting to change the subject to a lighter topic, he opened his mouth to speak but Paige, with Spinner tagging along, interrupted him.   
  
"I heard about tonight!" she said, looking seriously at Marco. "And I know you're probably worrying, but don't. Dylan is _totally_ into you." She smiled, seemingly satisfied with herself for helping out a friend.   
  
"Really?" he asked, his face lighting up.   
  
She nodded. "But, Tom is a charmer. Trust me. You just have to watch out for him."   
  
"How?" Marco asked, feeling put down a bit.   
  
"Well, if he starts talking about hockey, he'll go on about how great a player Dylan is and all that stuff. So, avoid that subject and cut him off ASAP," she instructed, and he listened intently. "And you should probably also stay off the topic of movies. He's a movie buff, and he knows all of Dyl's favorites, so he'll try to get Dylan to remember things."   
  
"Okay," he said, bobbing his head up and down. "I can do that."   
  
"Tom can be a real jerk when he wants to," Paige added. "Oh, there goes Hazel. I have got to talk to her about something. Have fun, Marco. And see you in class, Spin." She kissed her boyfriends' cheek before dashing off into the crowd. Ellie had also walked off at that point.   
  
Almost uncomfortably, Spinner and Marco shared glances. "So, you're going out with Dylan tonight?" Spinner said slowly, as if he'd been somewhere else for the entire conversation. "And that guy Tom's going with you?"   
  
"Yeah, Spin. So go ahead, throw your insults out right here. Get them all over with, because I don't want to hear them for the rest of the day," Marco spat, turning back to his locker and pulling out his algebra book.   
  
Spinner, however, looked surprised. "I - I wasn't…"   
  
"I mean, I'm worried enough that the only guy I really like is gonna get back together with a guy that I stand no chance against," he said angrily, talking more to himself than Spinner.   
  
"Dude, calm down. Dylan likes you. A lot. Way more than that creep, Tom," Spinner told him.   
  
Raising an eyebrow, Marco surveyed the other curiously, to see if he was telling the truth. "How - how do you know?" he asked, embarrassed to find his voice was cracking slightly.   
  
"He only talks about you twenty-four/seven." Rolling his eyes slightly, he continued, "I mean, it's really annoying. But whatever. He likes you way more. Trust me."   
  
A small smile forced itself onto Marco's lips. Was this really happening? Spinner was being nice? "Thanks," he said quietly.   
  
"Whatever. I'm just doing what I do," Spinner said, a bit astonished by his own behavior as well.   
  
"Has -" Marco started to say, but stopped. He couldn't find an easy way to inquire what he wanted, so he came out and said it. "Has he said anything… um, specifically, about me?" He looked hopefully to Spinner, who paused in consideration.   
  
"I dunno. He just, likes you I guess." He was looking a little confused; a little weirded out by what he was saying. "He told Paige that it was like no one else he'd ever liked."   
  
Smiling brightly, Marco nodded at the great news. It was time for class then, so they walked together, talking about things they hadn't talked about since before he came out.   
  
-----   
  
After school that day, Ellie practically flew to her house. She unlocked the door in a hurry, and burst through the front door. Her mother was sitting on the couch, drinking tea and laughing with another person… her father.   
  
"Daddy!" she screeched, and he looked overjoyed to see his daughter. Standing up, he threw open his arms and she ran straight into them. "I missed you," she told him, squeezing him tightly.   
  
"I missed you too, baby." Finally, they released each other and smiled. "Have you grown? I think you look taller," he observed, grinning.   
  
"A bit," she shrugged, smiling widely.   
  
"How are you?" he asked his only daughter.   
  
"I'm great… now." She sat down in between her parents, talking for a long time. And never, in the past few months, had she been that happy.   
  
A little while later, her doorbell rang. She stood quickly, "I'll answer it." When she pulled open the door, she was surprised to find Sean standing on her doorstep. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds.   
  
"Ellie?" her father called, from the other room. "Who is it?"   
  
"It's, uh, Sean." She hesitated. "My boyfriend." Almost looking for permission, she stared at him. Thankfully, he nodded.   
  
"Well, invite him in! We'll order pizza. He can stay for dinner." Her father was very eager to meet Sean.   
  
"Is that okay?" she asked quietly, and again he nodded.   
  
He followed her into the house, but she paused when she reached the room where her parents were. "Sean and I need to talk in private," she told them.   
  
"Of course," her dad replied. "We'll be upstairs if you need us." As they walked by, he kissed her on the forehead. The room was left silent.   
  
"So… that's your dad," Sean said finally. Ellie nodded. "He seems nice."   
  
"He is."   
  
"That's good." There was another awkward silence. "I've been thinking," he continued, after the longest pause. "I've been thinking a lot, actually, since the day you ran out on me at the Dot." She blushed, but before she could talk he held up his hand. "I don't know why you cut yourself. But it's harmful, Ellie. You're really hurting yourself. And if we're going to work, I need to know about these things. And… you've got to stop." He stopped, thinking how stupid he must have sounded but also how that was the first time he was sincere in a long while.   
  
"I know Sean." And without another word, Ellie pulled up her sleeve. Almost all of the scars were healed. It was obvious she hadn't cut herself in a while. They both broke into smiles, and hugged tightly.   
  
"But um, please don't mention it to anyone, okay?" she asked.   
  
"I won't," he promised.   
  
Holding hands, they went upstairs together. They sat down with her parents, talking and having a good time. Mr. Nash kept grilling his daughter's boyfriend, but not in a mean way. He asked nice questions.   
  
"So, Sean is it?" He got a confirmation nod, and went on. "How did you and Ellie meet?"   
  
The youngest two's eyes met, and they blushed. How was she supposed to tell her father that they became acquaintances in Saturday detention?   
  
"We've been friends for a while," she said, smiling brightly.   
  
"Great, that's great. You know, your mother and I met when we were your age…"   
  
**[Journal entry 8]   
Ellie Nash**   
  
I have TERRIFIC news! Well, two things really! And right now, life couldn't be any better.   
  
First things first: MY DAD IS HOME! You wouldn't believe how much I missed him. My dad is the greatest man in all of Canada; possibly the whole world. He's so nice and loving and my mom's madly in love with him. When he's around, she stays completely sober, and let's me do just about anything. She's a really decent mother when he's here.   
  
Second, after I ran out on Sean a while ago when he discovered about my little "problem", I thought he would never talk to me again. Today however, he came over to my house. He was really concerned about me, but I proved I haven't cut in a long time. I'm pretty proud of myself, especially after he expressed how proud he was.   
  
My dad really likes Sean. Which is weird, because my dad once told me, "I'll be waiting on the porch with a shotgun for the first boy you bring home." I assumed he wouldn't ever like any of my boyfriends. He was actually kind of hostile to Marco, too, but he got over that. I'm really glad they get along.   
  
Well, my dad and I are going to watch a movie. I'll write again soon.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
-----   
  
After the last class of the day let out, Marco rushed from his class. He stopped at his locker only long enough to hurriedly shove his books in and then hurried to the hallway where Dylan's locker was located. He was more nervous than ever, and his stomach wouldn't let him forget it.   
  
He leaned against a locker, trying to calm himself as he waited for Dylan. Surrounded by his friends, Dylan finally exploded into the hallway. They were talking loudly and laughing. Finally, though, they spotted Marco.   
  
"Aww, how cute. He's waiting for you, Dillie," joked Ty, and Dylan elbowed him in the ribs. Marco blushed slightly.   
  
"Hey Marco," Dylan said, and his friends quickly echoed him.   
  
"Hey," he returned, smiling.   
  
"Well, you guys have fun on your little… escapade," Brad grinned, and they all but Dylan started to leave.   
  
"Don't worry," Michael said, ruffling Marco's hair as he walked past him. "We hate Tom too."   
  
"Get out of here," Dylan laughed, shaking his head. "See you tomorrow."   
  
When they were gone, Marco and Dylan were the only ones left in the now-deserted hallway. Dylan turned to him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked doubtfully.   
  
"Yeah," he assured the other, flashing a toothy smile at him.   
  
"Okay. Well, I've got to stop at home and pick some stuff up first. Are you ready to go?" Dylan tossed his curls out of his eyes, and Marco nodded. They left the building side-by-side.   
  
"You know," Dylan said, when they were buckled into his car, "Tom's really not a bad guy. Despite what anyone said to you."   
  
_Won't make me stop hating him,_ Marco thought, but nonetheless nodded. "He can't be that bad if you liked him," he pointed out, cheeks red.   
  
Grinning, Dylan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.   
  
When they reached his house, Marco saw an unfamiliar car in the driveway. "Whose car is that?" he asked curiously.   
  
"It's my dad's."   
  
Blinking, Marco suddenly realized he had never met either of Dylan's parents. "Oh," he answered quietly. They got out of the car and walked in the house.   
  
Marco remembered what Dylan had said about his dad, and that made him somewhat anxious to meet him. To his dismay, Dylan's father was right in the path to his room. "Hello Dylan," his father greeted him.   
  
"Hey Dad."   
  
"Who's your friend?"   
  
"This is Marco," Dylan replied, and Mr. Michalchuk coughed slightly and stared at Dylan.   
  
"_This_ is Marco?" he asked.   
  
"Yeah…"   
  
"Oh. I… see." Embarrassed, Marco looked to Dylan for help. Dylan, however, looked just as confused as he felt, and shrugged slightly.   
  
"How old are you, Marco?" Mr. Michalchuk questioned.   
  
"Um, I'm in Grade 10," he responded quietly.   
  
"Oh. That's good. You're a bit, um… younger than I expected."   
  
"We've got to go upstairs, Dad," Dylan said loudly, ushering Marco forward. "Sorry," he apologized, lowering his voice when they were out of earshot. "He's like that a lot."   
  
"It's okay," Marco said, looking at the ground. "I mean, I am pretty young…"   
  
"Nah," Dylan said dismissively. "He just tries to find something wrong with every guy that steps foot in this house." Suddenly, he laughed. "Before he knew Ty was straight, he told him he looked unhealthily skinny. In the nicest way possible, of course, but still."   
  
Laughing along with him, Marco followed the older one into his room. He smiled at the familiar bedroom, and waited patiently as Dylan stuffed a few things into a bag. "So," Marco began daringly, "what's Tom like?"   
  
"Tom's…" Dylan said, and then stopped thoughtfully. He gave up the bag and sat on his bed, staring off into space. Marco regretted asking the question. "Well, Tom's a really nice guy. I met him from a friend. He's the same age as me. Uh, well, you'll get to meet him. And I'm sure you'll like him."   
  
_I doubt that,_ Marco thought silently.   
  
Shaking his head slightly to get out of his reverie, Dylan finished what he was doing and gave Marco the once-over. "Ready?"   
  
"Yep."   
  
"Great, let's go."   
  
They left the house in a hurry, careful to dodge Dylan's father, and got into his car with no mishaps. Feeling very much like his stomach was competing in a tumbling contest, Marco tried to calm himself down on the drive by staring placidly out the window. At the first red light, Dylan shifted in the driver's seat and stared hard at the trembling boy beside him. He had no idea what was wrong, but it couldn't have been good.   
  
"Are you - are you gonna be okay?" Dylan asked slowly, placing his hand gently on Marco's leg.   
  
He automatically jumped at the sudden contact between the two, and watched in shame as Dylan quickly drew his hand back up to the steering wheel. "I'm fine," he tried to assure him, forcing the fakest of all smiles. "Just a little nervous, I guess."   
  
"Nervous?" Dylan repeated, in almost a laughing tone. "Why?"   
  
"You know, uh, just… meeting Tom…" _And hopefully not losing you to him…_   
  
"You're nervous to meet Tom?" Dylan said, raising an eyebrow and chuckling. Shrugging slightly, Marco tried his best to regain his composure and continued staring out the window.   
  
"There's nothing to be worried about," he declared.   
  
"Yeah, I know."   
  
When they arrived at the diner, the first thing Marco saw was Tom, perfect hair and all, inside through the glass windows, and he frowned intensely. As rude as it was, he was hoping he'd have to cancel for some emergency.   
  
"Oh look, there he is," Dylan said, and motioned for the other to follow him into the restaurant.   
  
Tom beamed up brightly as Dylan came towards him, and the two embraced faintly. Marco tried not to look jealous.   
  
"Tom, you remember Marco?"   
  
The attractive young man glanced over Marco, and curtly nodded. "Of course." He was standing at a table with two seats on each side, and Dylan was obviously conflicted about where to sit. Marco and Tom had already sat down opposite of each other, and the blonde glanced nervously in between the both of them.   
  
"You know, it really has been too long," Tom said, pulling out the chair beside him before Marco got the chance. Sitting down in the seat, Dylan gave an apologetic look to Marco, who felt a bit insulted.   
  
"Yeah, it has," Dylan agreed with a smile.   
  
"You're still playing hockey, right?" Tom asked, with a grin. Marco's forced smile automatically twisted into a frown, remembering what Paige warned him.   
  
"Well, yeah. Of course. In fact, I -"   
  
"Oh look, there's the waiter," Marco interrupted, and Dylan closed his mouth as the waiter approached their table. They ordered drinks, and then he left.   
  
"I've got to go to the bathroom," Dylan said, standing. "You guys can go ahead and get… acquainted." He smiled briefly at the two, sensing the tension, and departed.   
  
There was awkwardness right away. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Finally, Tom took a sip of his drink and then stared at Marco, daring him to look away. "You must've heard about my past with Dylan," he began, trying to intimidate the younger boy.   
  
"Yeah, a little."   
  
"Do you know how close Dylan and I were?" He smirked slightly.   
  
Extremely uncomfortable, Marco looked at Tom and nodded. "Pretty close?"   
  
"_Unbelievably_ close," he corrected him. "You might as well give up now."   
  
Marco could barely believe his ears. "W-what?" He knew, of course, that Tom still had feelings for Dylan, but he didn't think he'd be so forward.   
  
"Just give up. I mean, you're what? Twelve years old?" He laughed, and Marco glared at him loathingly. "You're shorter than my Grade Six sister. And, hey, I think you guys are wearing the same shirt, too." He dropped his eyes to his shirt. He knew it was a little bit girly, but that was his style. Dylan had never complained. "Dylan wanted me, buddy," Tom continued, in his meanest voice possible. "And by the end of tonight, he's going to want me again. And he'll forget all about you."   
  
At that moment, Dylan rejoined the table. Completely backed off, Marco stared at the table. He knew Tom was right. Sitting back in his seat, Dylan glanced around the table. Tom smiled at him sweetly. Marco, however, avoided all eye contact.   
  
"Look," Tom said, after Dylan had sat down. "The waiter only left us two menus." Slyly, he slid one menu across the table to Marco. "I guess we'll have to share," Tom said, shrugging like it was the only option, to Dylan. He opened the flap, and leaned as close as he could to him. His body burning with jealously, Marco continued gazing fixedly at the list of meals. He'd suddenly lost his appetite.   
  
Becoming aware of the little space between them, Dylan inched away from Tom slightly. "So, Marco. Know what you're going to eat?"   
  
"No, I… I don't know. Any recommendations?"   
  
"The grilled chicken's great," Tom suggested before Dylan had the chance to. He suddenly grinned, and put his hand on Dylan's arm. "Remember our first date here?" Marco watched the hand, hardly able to swallow.   
  
"Yeah," Dylan laughed. "It was a disaster." _Ha_, Marco thought, somewhat satisfied.   
  
"Well, it turned out great in the end." Tom gave a small wink to Dylan, who laughed again and nodded. Thankfully, though, he moved his arm and Tom's hand recoiled back.   
  
They continued to make small talk and ordered their food. Seldom speaking, Marco kept to himself for most of the meal. Dylan sensed something was wrong, but Tom kept talking and leaving him with no opportunity to find out what.   
  
When they finished eating, and Marco finished picking at his grilled chicken, Dylan glanced at his watch. "Well, the film festival starts soon. So, we'll meet you there?" he asked his friend, and Tom nodded.   
  
"You guys go ahead," Tom said sweetly. "I'll pay."   
  
Grinning, Dylan said happily, "Thanks, man."   
  
"No problemo."   
  
When Tom stood up, Marco narrowed his eyes at the third menu, which he'd been sitting on. One of his little schemes to get closer to Dylan, undoubtedly.   
  
Dylan left the restaurant, and Marco gloomily followed him. Once inside and buckled up, Dylan looked hard at Marco. "What?" Marco said uncertainly, not looking him in the eye.   
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, deeply concerned. "You like, clammed up the entire meal. Did I do something wrong?"   
  
"No, no. You didn't do anything. It's just, uh, Tom…"   
  
"He's a nice guy, right?" Dylan broke in, and Marco shook off what he had to say.   
  
"Right. He's… nice."   
  
**[Journal entry 8]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
Tom is a jerk. Tom is a jerk. Tom is a jerk.   
  
Well, I guess you can tell, I do not like Tom at all. He puts on this fake, little sweet act whenever Dylan's around. But when Dylan left to go to the bathroom, I saw the real Tom. He's a mean, inconsiderate, conceited creep! He told me I might as well just back off, that Dylan was HIS. Ha, that's not what Dylan was probably thinking when he kissed me!   
  
Yeah, I'd purposely left out the kiss of my journal a few days ago. But it happened - in the hallway, he kissed me! It was the best kiss I'd ever gotten. And man is he a good kisser.   
  
We're going to go to this independent film festival next. Tom's going to try something, I know it. But there's nothing I can do. Maybe Tom was right. I am too young. Short. Feminine. I just don't know anymore.   
  
I guess I'll find out later tonight. Ciao.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
Finally, they arrived at the film festival. Tom's car pulled in right after Dylan's, and the three of them headed indoors. A bunch of shorter, student-made movies were playing inside, and Tom led them to three seats towards the back. Dylan sat in between the other two.   
  
Scoffing slightly, Marco smiled inwardly. If Tom knew Dylan so well, then he should know Dylan hated sitting in the back.   
  
It didn't take long for the first film to start. It was about a girl entering high school and struggling to join one of the cliques, but not fitting in with any. They all enjoyed it. About halfway into the third movie, Marco saw what he'd been dreading. Tom's hand slithered over the seat and right next to Dylan's. He carefully lifted his hand, and put it over Dylan's.   
  
Hurriedly, Dylan bent down and used both hands to tie his shoes. Marco was so relieved, though he still wasn't sure if Dylan liked Tom or not.   
  
Looking somewhat rejected, Tom returned his hands to his own seat. After a little while, though, he tried to make a move again. This time, however, he was much more direct.   
  
"Dylan," he whispered, who in return snapped out of his movie-trance and looked at Tom. "I didn't get the chance to tell you this," he continued in a hushed voice, and Marco strained his ears to listen, "but I missed you. A lot. I mean, I know we both agreed it was best to break up, but now, especially now, after seeing you again, I - I want you back."   
  
Dylan bit his lip and was about to say something, but Tom cut him off with a kiss. Gaping, Marco watched in horror as their lips connected.   
  
To his satisfaction, though, Dylan roughly pushed Tom away. "Tom, I - I can't. I'm… I'm with Marco." He side glanced the younger boy, as if for permission and received a smile.   
  
"You're with Marco," the now stony-faced Tom said in a soft voice. "Right." He stood up. "I should go." He paused, expecting Dylan to stop him. To change his mind. But he didn't. Tom turned, and strode out of the building.   
  
Neither of them really knew what to say. Finally, Dylan asked, "Want to leave?" Marco nodded. They stood together, and walked out.   
  
"I'm sorry," Dylan said genuinely when they made it to the sunny outdoors.   
  
"It wasn't your fault," Marco offered.   
  
"Yeah, it was. I was pretty sure he still liked me. I just didn't think he'd do… _that_."   
  
"You didn't kiss him back," Marco said, looking into his deep blue eyes.   
  
"I didn't want to." Shaking his head vigorously, he looked Marco over, up and down. "There's only one guy I want to kiss right now."   
  
Cheeks turning bright red, Marco grinned slightly and played dumb. "Oh yeah? Who could that be?"   
  
Without another word, Dylan leaned towards Marco and they shared their second, passionate kiss. This one was a bit longer than the first one, and a little more intense. They both loved every second of it, and when they pulled away, they were both beaming widely.   
  
"So, you want to go somewhere? The night's still young," Dylan proposed, and Marco nodded. They got into Dylan's car, and drove off into the night.   
  
And, from somewhere in the parking lot, a young Italian man followed the car. The car in which his little brother was seated in.   
  
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Ooh, drama. So, anyway, please review! I'd love to hear what you think. And hey, I got this chapter up pretty quickly, no? So, you have to review. :-P   
  
**Next chapter will be 100% intense!**


	11. The Fight

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own Degrassi. If I did, this all woulda taken place right after _Pride_ premiered. =D   
  
**Author's Note:** Seriously, you guys rock! All of the reviews make me feel happy. There's a fight scene in this chapter - and I'm sorry if it's way off base. I've never written a fight before. I hope I do all right. :D Yeah, so woo… crickets chirp   
  
Someone mentioned Marco was a little too emotional. I'm sorry, that's the way I figured he would be but I can try my best to lighten up on that, lol. Anyway, please review and stuff! Thanks guys!   
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"Where are we going?" Marco asked, as Dylan drove the car down the street.   
  
With only a glance into the mirror, he replied, "Well, the guys are getting together at the hockey rink. We could go there. They're not expecting me until later, but if we go now we can play some."   
  
Uncomfortably, Marco said in a low voice, "I don't know, um, how to play hockey."   
  
Dylan laughed. "I'll teach you." With that, Marco nodded. Raising his eyebrows, Dylan looked into the mirror again. "Man, this car's right on our tail." He sped up a bit, surprised to find that the car inched up, once again, right behind them. "Well, good thing we're here."   
  
As he pulled into the hockey arena's parking lot, Marco turned around to get his first glance at the car. His face went pale as the car parked right behind theirs, blocking any exit they may have had.   
  
"What's wrong?" Dylan asked the younger one, worriedly.   
  
"It's my brother," he whispered, closing his eyes. Eyes widening slightly, Dylan looked back again. Carlos, fuming, was getting out of the car. He advanced towards Dylan's car, in which both boys were silent.   
  
"Well, let's get out," Dylan bravely said, unbuckling his seatbelt. Simultaneously, they got out of the car and stared at Marco's older brother. "Hello Carlos," Dylan said, forcing a smile.   
  
Instead of replying, Carlos stared down his younger brother. He took a big step towards him. "Not a fag, huh, Marco?" he asked, in a sleek, cold voice. The question surprised Marco, and his jaw dropped open a little bit. "You're not a fag, right?"   
  
"Carlos, I -" Marco started to stutter, but Carlos cut him off.   
  
"You _kissed_ him, Marco! You kissed another guy! That's disgusting!" he yelled, voice rising. Marco had no reply, and Carlos turned on Dylan.   
  
"I told you to stay away from my brother."   
  
"And I told you no," Dylan said in the same tone. He wasn't backing down. Watching between the two, Marco could hardly swallow.   
  
"You made him think - you got him believing - I told you to stop hanging out with him," Carlos hissed, pointing vehemently at the other.   
  
"I didn't do anything," Dylan said, equally irate. "But if you lay a hand on him -"   
  
"You can't tell me what to do with my own brother."   
  
"No, but I can tell you what will happen if you do."   
  
With that, Marco watched in horror as Carlos, on not a moment's hesitation, threw the first punch. Dylan was quick to hit him back, and then they were on the ground, rolling and punching as hard as they could. Marco wanted desperately to stop them, to get in between and separate the two. But he was too weak; he wouldn't be able to do anything.   
  
At that time, the door to the hockey rink opened. Heading to his car, Brad stopped mid-stride when he saw his best friend and another guy, in the middle of a dirty fight. "Guys!" he shouted indoors, and ran towards the two.   
  
Slightly shaken, Marco was relieved to see him flying across the parking lot, and the three or four guys that quickly followed. When Brad got there, he lunged forward and attempted to pull Dylan out. More punches were thrown as he tried to heave the two apart, stumbling.   
  
Scott was the next one to arrive. He grabbed Carlos around the waist, and pulled him back. Michael automatically stepped in between Scott holding Carlos back, and Brad holding Dylan back. "What the hell is going on?" he shouted, as both boys struggled to break free.   
  
"Don't touch me, faggot," Carlos mumbled, elbowing Scott in the side to try to attack Dylan again.   
  
"Get off, Brad!" Dylan added, but he wasn't being aggressive with his friend.   
  
Hands still out to separate the two, Michael glimpsed at Marco, who was still looking a bit dazed. "What happened?" he asked the youngest boy, head cocked slightly to the side.   
  
"I… I… Carlos saw me and… he attacked him and…" he stuttered heavily, with shuddery breaths. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then focused them on Dylan. There was already a dark ring around his left eye forming, and a bleeding cut on his cheek. He stared for a few seconds, and then turned to his brother. Carlos' lip was swollen, and blood was gushing from his nose. It looked like he'd have a black eye as well.   
  
At that time, Carlos had managed to pull his hand loose from Scott and without hesitating a second, he brought back his fist and slammed it into his captor. Surprised, Scott completely let go of his grip and he stormed towards Dylan. Ty, however, standing nearby, slid the hockey stick he was holding under Carlos feet, causing him to slip and fall backwards.   
  
Violently, he reached forward and grabbed the older Italian boy by his shoulders and slammed him into Dylan's car. He was actually enjoying this, since he'd had a grudge against Carlos and his friends from the day they'd ganged up on him. "I think you're forgetting that there's six of us and one of you." For added effect, he slammed him into the car once more. "It's a nice change."   
  
Finally, Brad released Dylan and looked at him concernedly. "Are you okay?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." He cast a look at Marco, who realized he was staring at him and reddened. "I'm sorry," Dylan said.   
  
"Sorry for what? Defending me?" He forced a smile, and out of the corner of his eye looked at Carlos. He'd stopped struggling, and was now wiping some of the blood from his nose off.   
  
"I'm going home," Carlos announced, shoving Ty away a bit. Looking skeptical, Ty took a step behind him so he could leave. "Come on, Marco," he continued, pointing to his car. Hesitating, Marco looked in between his brother and Dylan. He knew it'd be bad if he got in the car, but it'd be worse if he didn't. Still, he needed to stay with Dylan.   
  
Sucking in his courage, he said steadily, "No."   
  
Carlos' cheeks grew red, but he wouldn't start another fight there. He knew better than that. He shook his head. "I always knew there was something wrong with you. Hanging around faggots all the time. Of course, now I know better!" He laughed bitterly. "You _are_ a fag. Just wait 'til Dad finds out I saw you making out with Homochuk."   
  
Just to be careful, Brad grabbed Dylan's shirt. Glaring loathingly at his older brother, Marco shook his head. He was too angry to speak. "See you at home, Marco," were his departing words, in a sweet tone with a final evil grin. He ducked into his car, backed away, and left.   
  
Marco stared after his car, and continued staring even when it was out of sight. Finally, he turned around and saw all of the guys were looking at him, and guiltily, they turned away. Feeling it was his turn to apologize, he said to each of them, but while looking at Dylan, "I'm really sorry. I can't believe he - well, I can believe it but…"   
  
"It's okay, Marco," Dylan reassured him, placing his hand over his. "You didn't ask your brother to do it." He paused, raised an eyebrow, and then jokingly continued, "…Right?"   
  
Taken aback, he did a double take, eyebrows furrowed, until he realized Dylan was kidding. He forced a laugh, which sounded more like a painful cough, and looked around.   
  
"So, uh, you guys want to stick around?" Ty asked skeptically, motioning towards Marco and Dylan. When Michael cast him a dirty look, he immediately said, "Nah, I'm sure you just wanna head home. Get some ice on that. I - I think I'm tired, anyway." The other guys were quick to agree.   
  
"See you tomorrow, Dyl," Brad said, clapping a hand on his best friend's shoulder. He nodded at them, and one-by-one they all departed, leaving only the two. Sighing, Dylan brought his hand gingerly up to his face, and then brought it down to look. Blood, which was rushing from the wound on his cheek, was now caking his hand.   
  
"Looks like that hurts," Marco offered, and he silently cursed himself for saying something so stupid.   
  
"A bit."   
  
He waited a bit before daring to say anything else, but when he did, Dylan just cut him off. "I tried to-"   
  
"I know."   
  
Cheeks growing hot, he stared at the ground and willed himself not to speak. _Everything's ruined,_ he thought bitterly. _Dylan hates me now, Carlos hates me, my pa hates me. No way would Dylan want to give me another chance._ That's when it began to sink in. Dylan, who usually lit up the conversation, was saying nothing. He was about to suggest he walk home, even though it was miles away, when Dylan finally spoke. His voice was oddly strained, but Marco was relieved to recognize the same quirkiness in his tone that he was infamous for.   
  
"So, do you want to just head back to my house?" When Marco finally braved it enough to trail his eyes upward hopefully, Dylan added, "I doubt you'd want to go home, now." And then he smiled, a genuine smile, and relief washed over Marco's body.   
  
"Yeah," Marco agreed, nodding slightly. "Are you sure you parents… they wouldn't mind?"   
  
Shrugging, he responded nonchalantly, "They'll get over it." And then, with a grin, "But tonight, you're taking the couch." Marco started to playfully object, but Dylan held up his hands and firmly shook his head. "Last time, you rolled and kicked and just about beat me black and blue in your sleep. Oh, and you snore too."   
  
"I do not snore!" Marco protested.   
  
"You snore worse than my grandpa," Dylan teased.   
  
"I do not snore!" he repeated one more time, then cleared his throat, as if to say _End of conversation._ Dylan laughed, and Marco felt as if the event that had just taken place were dissolving before their very eyes as he climbed back into Dylan's car.   
  
"What do you think?" Dylan said, as he pulled out of the parking lot. Marco didn't have to ask what he meant.   
  
"I think today was a very… long day."   
  
**[Journal entry 9]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
Talk about a day of mood swings. Let's have a recap of my day: it all started when Dylan asked me to tag along with him and Tom. That was great. Fast forward to the "date". It was horrible. Tom was hitting on Dyl left and right, and right in front of me.   
  
Then came the movie. First, the jerk tried to hold his hand. I don't know whether or not Dylan knew that or not, but I'm very thankful to his untied shoe. And then… and then he kissed him. My mind went blank. I had this feeling, like everything that had been happening between Dylan and me - it was all over. But Dylan pulled away quickly, and told Tom that we were together.   
  
And then we kissed. And it couldn't have been any better, because he's a great kisser. But unfortunately, knowing me, something bad happened. And this something was just about the worst something bad that could have possibly happened.   
  
Carlos saw us.   
  
I guess maybe it was my fault, because we were doing it in public, in the open view. But that thought didn't even cross my mind. I didn't even see Carlos, until he started following us, right to the hockey rink.   
  
And then he and Dylan got into one of the worst fights I've ever seen. They both ended up hurt. I wanted to stop it so bad… there was nothing I could do. But then Dylan invited me to go to his house, so we'll see what happens there. I'm not sure what to think right now.   
  
Ciao.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
-----   
  
"Ellie!" A voice, urgent, whispered into Ellie's ear. Groaning, she tried to ignore the frequent hisses, to pretend it was all a part of the rather nice dream she was having. "Ellie!" The voice insisted, not ceasing, and it's volume increasing. She had no choice but to feebly open her eyes, but in the dark she could only see a dark figure standing over her bed.   
  
She had the brief thought of screaming for help, because it wasn't often that strangers were in her bedroom at two in the morning, but the drowsiness she felt decided against it. Besides, this figure knew her name. They couldn't be _that_ dangerous.   
  
"Ellie!" This person wasn't anywhere near ready to give up. Suddenly, the room went pitch black again as she could no longer make out the bright red numbers of her clock, and it took a second for her to realize the figure was leaning over her.   
  
"Ellie, wake up!"   
  
"I'm awake," she whispered to the figure, feeling really stupid, as if she was giving consent to a kidnapper that could possibly be standing over her.   
  
"Good." The bed sank somewhere near her feet, meaning the figure had sat down, and she could see the clock's red lines once more, almost shrieking _2:04_, with a glowing dot to confirm it was in the dead of the morning. She tore her eyes away from the glow, and focused them on her visitor.   
  
The person swept a hand over their head, and pulled a hood down with it. She was a bit shocked to find out it was Sean that was in the middle of the bedroom, but she was relieved as well - it was better him than a stranger.   
  
"What're you doing here?" she demanded in a whisper, knowing her father was only a few doors down. Being in the military had taught him to become an extremely light sleeper, and she didn't think he'd find Sean in her bedroom this early as comforting as Ellie had.   
  
Sean didn't answer right away; he was digging almost furiously into the pockets of his hoodie.   
  
"Look, Sean, my dad likes you but if he sees you here at this time, well… his weapons are going to be put to use pretty soon," she explained, shaking her head. Sean only grinned at her, as though that made his adventure even more fun.   
  
"How did you get in my house?" she asked when he continued to say nothing.   
  
"Your kitchen window was slightly open," he finally spoke, smirking. She noticed he didn't bother to lower his voice too much - did he _want_ to get caught? Sean, on the other hand, was proud of himself for making it all the way up to her bedroom, without being caught at all. Yet.   
  
"Well there's a soothing thought," she said sarcastically, shaking her head once more. Her hair bounced wildly around her face; obviously infected with a bad case of bed head.   
  
"Why are you here?" she asked again, now that he'd stopped fiddling with his clothing.   
  
"I wanted to show you something."   
  
She pointedly eyed the clock, whose glowing "4" had now turned into a "7". "It couldn't wait until morning?"   
  
"Nope."   
  
"Well," she said after a short hesitation. "What is it?" And then thoughtfully, she changed her wording to, "Where is it?"   
  
But Sean obviously wasn't in the mood to elaborate. "Get dressed," he said simply, and then with the courtesy of a gentleman, he left the room and quietly closed the door, without making a sound.   
  
Suspiciously, she threw the covers off of her and pulled on a sweatshirt and pants. She didn't know why she was going along with his odd instructions, but if Sean had risked his life by breaking into her house, it had to be good. She quietly opened the door, to find Sean waiting silently for her. With two fingers, he beckoned her forward and crept through the hallway with her trailing, quiet as mice.   
  
When they got to the kitchen, Sean pulled open the back door and the two slipped off into the night. "What are we doing?" Ellie asked again, looking around the deserted street.   
  
"Follow me," he said, and his grin was so intriguing that she obeyed. He led her to a park, and he stopped abruptly. "Close your eyes," he said, and she eyed him distrustfully before doing so.   
  
Putting his hands on her shoulder, he continued to guide her forward through the park. Finally, they stopped. "Now, open your eyes," he said, in a somewhat quieter voice. She did as she was told, and her jaw dropped slightly. She was amazed to see what she did.   
  
"Sean -"   
  
"What do you think?" he asked, interrupting her babble. "Not bad, huh?"   
  
Ellie had been through the exact location in that park many times; on the way home from school, at times when she'd cut class… But it suddenly occurred to her that she had never seen it at two o'clock in the morning. Everything looked different. The moonlight seemed to reflect off of everything, and it looked straight out of a fairytale. But best of all, there was a blanket in the middle of the beautiful grass, which had been purposely placed there.   
  
He took her hand in his, and together, they lay down on the comfy blanket. "Just wait," he said, tilting his head so he was facing the sky.   
  
Ellie marveled slightly as she waited for the next surprise; she'd never met a guy so full of surprises. Of course, he was the resident "badass" or "gangsters" or whatever else was on the extensive list of names he'd been called, but Ellie hardly ever saw that side of him. What she saw was a sweet, caring, gentle guy… a terrific boyfriend.   
  
And suddenly, right in front of their eyes, the sky seemed to explode into all different colors. Reds, and blues, and wonderful golds… She watched, breathless, as the fireworks continued going off.   
  
"How did you--?" she tried to ask Sean, but he only supplied her with a secretive smile.   
  
Sean, however, was also contemplating his actions. He obviously cared for her more than anyone else he'd ever come across. He quickly racked his brains, trying to remember if he'd ever done something like this for anyone else. _Well, I surprised Amy with tickets to the mud fight one time… Nah, that didn't count. I stole them._ He shook his head slightly and looked over at Ellie, smiling.   
  
As the last of the fireworks exploded against the otherwise black sky, Sean put his hand on Ellie's face and turned her towards him. Without any words, they leaned in and kissed. It was a sweet, loving kiss. _Marco doesn't even compare,_ Ellie thought with a laugh, which she quickly stifled as their lips met again.   
  
"We better go," Sean announced quietly. "Don't want your dad getting worried."   
  
"You mean you don't want my dad tearing off your head," Ellie corrected him, laughing.   
  
"That too," he admitted finally. Standing, they linked hands and walked back to her house; where she left him with a kiss on the cheek as she stole silently back inside.   
  
To her delight, as she passed by her parents room, both snores were present - her mother's quiet, more-like-breathing ones, and her father's, a bit louder, long ones.   
  
She was too awake at that moment to attempt to go back to bed, so she rummaged through her things, and brought out her journal. She's grown oddly close to the journal, as Kwan as hinted they might a while back. She scoffed at the idea at the time, but she liked to write in it now. She smiled as she stared down at her own words on her first entry. _I'm just not the "express your emotions" type of person._ She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud; she didn't need her father's interrogation at that moment.   
  
_I've changed_, Ellie thought to herself. _Sean changed me._ She paused for a few seconds, and then flipped to an empty page. And as she began writing, she smiled widely. Because everything was right.   
  
**[Journal entry 9]   
Ellie Nash**   
  
Life is so good right now that they only thing I have to complain about is the lack of things to complain about. My mom's never been happier… or nicer, for that matter. All of the alcohol, excepting a really valuable bottle of wine locked away in the basement, has been thrown out. My dad's great too. He's like my best friend. I love having him home so much.   
  
Today, my dad announced we were going to watch ** The Wizard of Oz.** When I was really little, we always used to watch that right before my bedtime. It was an excuse for me to stay up longer, because it got me so terrified that I couldn't sleep. Can you blame me? Those monkey things are horrible. But it was great, just me and my dad.   
  
Sean completely surprised me tonight. And just about gave me a heart attack, too. I will have to hide this journal after I'm done with this entry, though, because if my dad found out… _he_ would have a heart attack!   
  
Anyway, at 2 in the morning, I heard someone whispering my name. At first I thought it was part of my dream, but it was someone in my room! I found out it was Sean, though. But we didn't do anything! He told me to get dressed, and then led me outside to the park. It was SO beautiful there… like something I'd never seen before. And then, there were amazing fireworks… Real ones, I mean, that's no metaphor.   
  
He's a great kisser, though! And I love hanging out with him. I really do think what my dad said today was right. When the movie ended, (and Dorothy and Toto were safe once more!) he turned to me and said, "Sean seems like a keeper." We didn't discuss it anymore, that's all he said. Really made me happy.   
  
Well, I better try and get some sleep! Who knows what will happen tomorrow!   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
-----   
  
"Dylan! What - what happened to you - your face…?" Paige gasped, staring at her older brother with deep concern. From behind her, Spinner too was looking curiously at the cuts and bruises; he, however, tore his eyes away and glanced at Marco oddly.   
  
"Long story," Dylan said simply, flashing them a somewhat fake smile. "Look, I need to get some ice or something, my eye's starting to sting…"   
  
He brushed past his little sister and her boyfriend, and Marco rocked on the balls of his feet uncomfortably.   
  
"Mom's in the kitch-" Paige tried to warn him before he got too far. However, Mrs. Michalchuk had heard her only son's voice and came rushing into the room.   
  
She uttered a slight shriek as she saw him, and pulled him close to inspect his injuries. "Good Lord, Dylan, what happened to you?!" Without waiting for an answer, and ignoring his protests, she shook her head and said heatedly, "I thought this was over! Dylan, honey, are you okay?"   
  
"I'm fine, Mom," he tried to assure her, rolling his eyes slightly.   
  
"You most certainly are not! We put up with this for at least a year. I thought it was over, I thought they'd all moved on…" she moaned, a few tears shimmering in his eyes.   
  
"The boy says he's fine, dear," Mr. Michalchuk said exasperatedly, also entering the room from the kitchen.   
  
"I am! Nothing a little ice - and time - won't heal." To his mom's unconvinced looks, he added, "I've been hurt worse in hockey, and you don't make a big deal out of it then." He flashed her a brilliant smile. "I promise, I'm fine." He disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a few seconds later with an icepack attached to his darkened eye.   
  
Despite Dylan's arguments, Mrs. Michalchuk insisted on putting a Band-Aid over the cut on his cheek, and he finally gave in.   
  
As though just realizing there were other guests in the house, Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk smiled warmly at Marco and Spinner. "Hello Spinner," Mrs. Michalchuk said, and then stopped when she got to Marco.   
  
Paige took the liberty of making introductions. "This is Marco, Mom. Dylan's -" She paused, looking to the boys for help.   
  
"Boyfriend," Dylan finally finished for her, and the whole room seemed a little tense. Marco tried his best to conceal a very large smile, for that was the first time Dylan had used that term, but he was losing very badly.   
  
"It's nice to meet you," Mrs. Michalchuk said sincerely, smiling again. Mr. Michalchuk smiled down at him as well, but he couldn't stop thinking how young and small Marco looked…   
  
The adults finally left the room, and the tension immediately melted.   
  
"Who did that to you?" Paige demanded, crossing her arms.   
  
"One of the very fine members of the del Rossi clan," Dylan grinned, and Marco squirmed uncomfortably.   
  
"Marco's _dad_ did that?!" she almost shrieked, and they both laughed a little.   
  
"No, no, no. Carlos. His brother."   
  
"What a jerk!" Paige muttered, then stopped and looked at Marco. "Sorry," she added quickly, but he shook his head fervently.   
  
"Trust me, jerk is an understatement."   
  
"So he found out?" Spinner said, looking surprised. "Did you like, tell him? And, what, just beat you up?"   
  
"Uh, actually he saw Dylan and I, um, together," Marco said nervously, hoping they didn't notice the squeak he had emitted when he said the last word. "And followed us to the hockey rink, where -"   
  
"We got in a grueling fight, and some of the guys broke it up," Dylan concluded. "Of course, I think I bloodied him up a little worse than he did me…" He winked at Marco, who grinned.   
  
"You're really lucky he was alone," Paige said, her eyebrows pointing straight up. "I've seen some of the guys he hangs out with. Really big guys. And muscular." She grinned suddenly. "I do think the brown haired soccer player is pretty cute-"   
  
"Hey!" Spinner interjected, looking offended.   
  
"But not as cute as _you_, Honeybee," she said, kissing him slightly.   
  
"Well, we're going to head up to my room," Dylan said. "Spin, are you staying the night?" He nodded, knowing the Michalchuk adults trusted him enough, though he slept in the living room. "Oh, well, guess the couch is occupied. Guess you're taking the floor then," he added as an afterthought to Marco, grinning.   
  
They went up to his familiar, hockey-adorned room and closed the door in silence. They sat down on the bed, both wanting to talk about what happened but dreaded bringing it up.   
  
Marco fidgeted slightly. The awkward silence was getting to him. He didn't want to talk about the fight, really. He was afraid Dylan would change his mind and blame the whole incident on the youngest del Rossi. So, when Dylan opened his mouth to speak at least, he did the only thing that made sense to him at the moment.   
  
He leaned over a bit, put his hand on the back of Dylan's neck, and kissed him. He knew he had permission, because though Dylan was surprised at first, it didn't take him long to start kissing him back. Before long, their tongues met and the kiss deepened. Marco was in pure bliss when Dylan leaned back onto the bed, taking Marco, and still kissing, with him as he went. Dylan ran his hands through Marco's dark hair affectionately.   
  
After a little while, they pulled away and met eyes. Both were grinning deeply, and Marco was lost for words.   
  
"You owed me that," Dylan laughed, and Marco looked a little surprised.   
  
"Oh really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What for?"   
  
"For Carlos," Dylan joked. "And for me not getting a chance to show you how to play hockey."   
  
"Well, that's two things, then. I guess I still owe you." And with that, he leaned over again, but this time it was only a soft peck on the lips.   
  
"Well," Dylan said, not able to fight off his grin, "now that we're even, what would you like to do?"   
  
"I don't care," he said, feeling as though nothing could bring him down at that moment.   
  
Dylan picked up the remote, and flipped on the television. His face lit up as the screen filled with hockey players, on what was evidently a game he'd been dying to see. "Great!" He then side-glanced Marco. "You don't mind, do you?"   
  
"Nah."   
  
"Great," he repeated, watching the game with wide eyes.   
  
Knowing the only thing that would make Marco want to watch a hockey game was if Dylan was playing, he closed his eyes and daringly leaned back into Dylan, so his head was nearly resting on his shoulder. Almost automatically, Dylan snaked his arm comfortably around Marco's shoulders.   
  
The game continued to be played; Dylan kept letting out little cheers or grunts every so often. But then, Marco turned his head toward the window when he heard quite the familiar sound. It sounded exactly like the clunk-clunk-clunk his dad's truck made every time it was on the road.   
  
He grew more nervous at the clunk-clunk-clunks grew louder. And then, as quit as they started, they stopped. But it was too close… he heard a car door slam.   
  
That's when the doorbell rang, and he heard Paige answer it. Dylan muted the television when he heard the heated, strong Italian voice from downstairs, and soon Paige came thundering up the stairs. She burst into Dylan's room without knocking, seeing a terrified looking Marco and an utterly confused Dylan.   
  
"Uh, Marco. Your dad's here," she said, stating the obvious. "He said you better come down now, or, uh, or else…" She paused, searching for the exact words the angry father of her friend had said. "Or else that's it."   
  
-----   
  
**All righty then!** Bit of a long chapter, you think? Sorry I didn't update sooner… I was planning on finishing it last Friday before I went to Arizona for a week, but I ended up leaving sooner than I expected. Oh well.   
  
Well, how was it?! I really need to know what you think! You better review! ;D I don't care what you say, just review! =) 


	12. Fighting It Out

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** I really don't own a thing, sadly.   
  
**Author's Note:** I had no idea what the Michalchuk, nor the del Rossi, parents names were, therefore I made them up. This chapter is pretty harsh and incredibly Marco-angsty, but I assure you… it's all going to go uphill from here. I hope you think this chapter is all right! Maybe there's too much angst? Let me know! Okay, wow. I lost like all my enthusiasm for this story for a while. I'm telling you now, I sort of hate this chapter. I rewrote it many, many times but… hopefully you'll think it's okay. Anyway, I'm so sorry! Anyway, I decided to also stray away from only the MarcoDylan and SeanEllie scenes, and add a PaigeSpinner and maybe others.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
  
"H-he said _what_?" Marco stuttered nervously, staring with disbelief at Paige. Biting his lip, he snuck a glance at Dylan - who looked a bit confused, and a bit angry.   
  
"Maybe you should just come downstairs," Paige said, her own voice shaking a little. Her older brother had told her he was a large fellow, but she hadn't been expecting this. And the fury in his face - she hadn't seen anything like it.   
  
"Yeah," Dylan agreed in a hollow voice, and Marco gaped at him. The last thing he wanted to do was face his father.   
  
"Yeah, I have a better idea," Marco scoffed slightly, terrified. "How about I throw myself out the window?"   
  
Looking pained, Dylan tried to laugh - but failed. He knew Mr. del Rossi could be violent if he intended to. Shaking his head to bring him back to reality, he turned to Paige and asked, "Is anyone with him?"   
  
"Um, there was someone in the car but they didn't come inside."   
  
"All right. Look, go get Mom and Dad, and… explain to them what's happened - what's happening. Okay?" Paige nodded and started to leave the room at once. "We'll just go talk to him," Dylan continued, now looking towards the younger male.   
  
Despite all of the many reasons he could think of to not go downstairs, he allowed Dylan to grab his arm and guide him out of the room. When they got to the top of the stairs, Marco could see his father's face, boiling with rage, and Spinner, quietly staring at Mr. del Rossi.   
  
"Get down here right now," he barked when he spotted his son, gripping something in his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white.   
  
"W-why're you here, Pa?" Marco questioned him in a small, shaky voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dylan nod to him, as if to tell him to keep asking questions.   
  
"You know _damn_ well why I'm here," he spat, his already red face growing hotter by the moment. "You've brought disgrace to our whole family," he continued in a sleeker, colder voice.   
  
At that time, to almost everyone's relief, Paige hurried back into the room, followed quickly by her parents. "Hello!" said Mr. Michalchuk loudly, rushing forward. The color in Mr. del Rossi's face slowly drained as he surveyed him with a falsely cheerful face; he obviously thought anyone who _allowed_ their son to partake in such a disgusting lifestyle wasn't competent of being a parent at all. Rather than returning the greeting, he let out a small grunt.   
  
"I'm Joseph Michalchuk," he introduced himself, thrusting a hand forward.   
  
Rather than shaking his hand, he said simply in his strong accent, "Charming." Mr. del Rossi then turned his attention to Marco, "Let's _go_." Marco, however, stayed put.   
  
"I - I think we should talk," Dylan's father continued, sitting down on a couch and pointing at one near him. Mr. del Rossi, with a great look of distaste, obeyed.   
  
There was a silence in the house for a few moments, as Paige and her mother also settled themselves in couches while Spinner, Marco, and Dylan remained standing.   
  
"Our sons are getting rather close, aren't they?" Mr. Michalchuk finally said tensely, hoping to break the ice. Almost everyone else in the room knew that was a horrible mistake. While the boys merely blushed, Mr. del Rossi's face grew redder than it had ever been. "I - I mean they've become good friends now," he improvised, with a slight stutter.   
  
Mrs. Michalchuk glared at her husband slightly, before picking up the conversation. "Look, Mr. del Rossi, as much as you'd like to deny it, and as much as you hate it, there's nothing you can do to prevent your son from being gay. And, you'll have to live with the fact that our boys are…" She paused here, searching for the right word. "Together."   
  
Mr. del Rossi had heard enough. He leapt to his feet, his hands positively shaking with rage. "If you want to let your son live a sinful life and go straight to Hell, then let him!" he bellowed, taking everyone else by surprise. "But my son will **not** be like that! He is not going to be a fag!"   
  
"_Yes,_ Papa, I am," Marco replied forcefully, staring him down. He marched down the steps as he spoke, towards his father who was glaring at him loathingly. "I'm going to be as fag today. I'll be a fag tomorrow. And you know what? Twenty years from now - I'll still be a fag."   
  
The house was silent once more, and his dad almost looked dumbfounded. That was, until he raised his fist and brought it down, hard, against his son's cheek. Marco tumbled backwards, and into the couch. "You're forgetting whom you're talking to," his father said, in an oddly calm, yet icy cold, voice. He looked down at his son, showing no sympathy towards him.   
  
Shocked, Dylan stared at his boyfriend, whose eyes were now glistening with tears and had a red handprint stamped onto his cheek, and then turned to Marco's father. He opened his mouth to say something horrible, but before he could Mr. Michalchuk rushed forward.   
  
"He's a boy, for God's sake! He can't control his feelings!" he shouted, helping Marco back onto his feet. Trembling, Marco avoided his dad's gaze by staring at the carpet. He couldn't ever remember a time when his dad had hit him, or even Carlos. His father never used to be violent at all.   
  
"Well as long as he's under my care, he'll have to learn to. I'm warning you: **keep your son away from mine**." He turned to look at Marco, and grinned nastily. "Oh, and good news. Your aunt and uncle have decided to take you in. You'll spend the rest of the school year there, in Italy, with your cousins."   
  
To say Marco was horrified was an understatement. No matter how much he loved Italy, and most of his family that lived there, his aunt and uncle were two of the most unpleasant people he'd ever met. They were strict, they were rude, and they were extremely traditional. He could remember one time, when he and Carlos were staying with them for Christmas; their cousin had gone on a date without permission from his parents, and got busted. The next morning, in front of the whole family, his uncle took a belt to him until he couldn't sit straight for a week.   
  
"No," he said nervously, trying his best to ignore the stinging in his cheek. "Ma wouldn't… she would never…" He was uncomfortable to see Dylan, Paige, Spinner, and Mrs. Michalchuk still gaping wordlessly.   
  
Mr. Michalchuk, however, had seen and heard enough. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to get out of my house right now. Marco will be staying the night but we'll make sure he comes home eventually."   
  
"I'm not leaving without my son."   
  
"I'm afraid you will be," he continued, raising his voice. "Either on your own free will, or you could wait until the police arrive, where they will be informed of everything that has happened tonight." Mr. del Rossi looked like he had been punched. His face red, he threw a look of hatred towards Marco, and then turned and stormed out the door.   
  
The longest pause of silence that any of them had ever experienced took place right then. After what seemed to be hours, Mrs. Michalchuk finally said in a soft voice, "Marco, are you all right?"   
  
He looked up at her, surprised by the concern in her tone, and nodded slightly. His cheek still throbbed, but with everything that had just happened, he was able to push the pain aside.   
  
"Okay, then, I want you four to go upstairs," she continued, in a grave voice. They obeyed quickly, as Spinner and Paige went silently filing up the stairs, with Dylan, taking hold of Marco's arm, and following. They all went into Dylan's room and sat down, looking at each other.   
  
Marco was fighting back tears. He thought of his parents shipping him off to Italy. He thought of having to say goodbye to Dylan. He thought of never being able to kiss him again… And suddenly, the tears came like a waterfall. They rushed out his closed eyelids, leaked down his cheeks, and dropped every which way off his chin. "I hate this!" he sobbed in frustration, banging his fist on the bed. "I hate everything about this! I hate my dad, and I hate Carlos, and I hate being gay!"   
  
Dylan didn't look exactly surprised by the sudden outburst; at least, not as surprised as Spinner looked. He drew Marco into his arms and let the younger boy cry into his shoulder, murmuring soft phrases to him to get him to calm down. Paige, too, put her hand on Marco's arm, and even Spinner managed to tell him it was "okay".'   
  
"I hate this," Marco repeated once more, after he stopped sobbing and managed to wipe his eyes.   
  
"I know you do, Marco. I understand," Dylan said soothingly.   
  
"No!" he yelled, pulling back and surprising everyone. "No, you don't! I know you're gay, Dylan, but your older brother doesn't want to murder you, does he?! Your dad doesn't barge into the only guy you care about's house and tries to ruin your life, does he?! You **don't** know, and you **don't** understand!"   
  
"Look, Marco, just because my family reacted differently than yours doesn't mean I had it easy!" he said, his voice louder than he intended. "Try having your father ignore you for the first few months! Trying having your mother look at you like you ruined _her_ life! Try being on a hockey team with guys who want nothing more than to make your life hell!"   
  
"Dylan!" Paige said, grabbing her brother's arm. He quickly silenced himself, frowning into the opposite direction.   
  
"You're right," Marco said quietly, his eyes red. "I'm sorry. You're completely right." A few more tears rolled down Marco's face, and he didn't bother to brush them away. He didn't think about making a fool of himself in front of Spinner and Paige.   
  
"It's okay," Dylan assured him, forcing a smile.   
  
"No, it's not. Why does life have to be like this? Why can't my Pa and Carlos just get over it? I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this." He paused a second, and looked at the bruises and scrapes littering Dylan's face. "I'm sorry you have to go through with this again."   
  
"I don't mind," he said quietly, but before he could say another word, his parents yelled up the stairs for him and Paige to come down a second. "Be right back," he said, as the siblings left the room.   
  
Turning around, Marco looked at Spinner, and Spinner looked at Marco. "Your dad's brutal," Spin offered.   
  
"You think?" he retorted sarcastically.   
  
"Look, dude, I know I haven't been the greatest friend but you've got to get over this attitude. I'm sorry about what happened tonight, but I didn't have anything to do with it. And I'm only trying to help," Spinner shot at him.   
  
Sighing, Marco nodded. "I know. Sorry. I'm just a little… stressed."   
  
"You know, what you need right now is just a free day. No dads, no Carlos, no… sexuality, no worries," he said, nodding. "Just you and me, what do you say?"   
  
Marco looked at him. "When?"   
  
Shrugging, Spinner replied casually, "Tomorrow?"   
  
Smiling genuinely for the first time in a while, Marco nodded. "I'd like that. Thanks, Spin." At that moment, Dylan and Paige came back into the room, looking a bit more relieved than when they left.   
  
"Your mom called, Marco. She kept apologizing for your dad and your brother beating Dyl up, and she said there's no way she was sending you to Italy," Paige said, and Marco felt like millions of bricks had been lifted off his shoulders.   
  
"She also said you can stay here as long as you want and that when you're ready to come home, they're not gonna bother you," Dylan added with a smile. "Oh, and that she loves you very much."   
  
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm tired," Dylan said after a hesitation. They all agreed it was time for bed. Paige gave him Marco and her brother a kiss on the cheek, and Spinner did their manly handshake, and then the two left the room.   
  
"I'd say it'd be stupid to think about sleeping on the floor, huh?" Dylan said when they were gone. Tiredly, Marco mumbled something incoherent and nodded. All he wanted to do was fall into a deep, dreamless sleep and wake up happy. He doubted that'd be possible, but waking up with Dylan at his side definitely wouldn't put a damper on it.   
  
Dylan proceeded to pull back the covers, and then paused. "Would you be uncomfortable if I slept in my boxers?" he asked, doubtfully.   
  
"I don't care," he said, a bit too quickly. Blushing furiously, he turned away as Dylan laughed. The older boy then unzipped his jeans and pulled them off hurriedly, revealing plaid boxers. He also took off his shirt, but he had a plain white one on under it that he left on. He got under the covers and smiled at his boyfriend, wondering if this was going to make Marco feel awkward at all.   
  
After a long self-conflict, Marco turned away, and then he too slid his pants off. He was wearing plain red boxers, which clashed so horribly with his bright blue shirt that Dylan had to laugh. He got under the covers next to Dylan, smiling inwardly.   
  
"Your dad really got you good," Dylan said softly, noticing the red, swollenness of his cheek and sighing.   
  
"Not nearly as good as Carlos got you," Marco said, looking pointedly at Dylan's black eye.   
  
"Oh, just wait until someone spots our injuries at good old DCS. Not to mention Carlos'. The rumor mill will be up and running," Dylan said, smiling faintly.   
  
"Oh boy." Marco breathed out a puff of air so heavy that a few strands of his hair flew upward and came back into his face. He yawned loudly, and Dylan turned off the lights.   
  
Turning comfortably on his side, Marco thought about everything that had happened that day. "Longest day in history," he murmured, but now that he knew his mother was there for him, he wasn't as worried.   
  
In fact, he was able to flop his head down on the pillow and fall almost instantly into a deep sleep.   
  
**[Journal entry 10]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
I should have known Carlos would have gone running to my dad. I can just imagine him bursting into our house with a gleeful look on his stupid bruised face, screaming, _"Marco's a fag, Papa, for real! He was kissing a **boy!**"_ My papa probably asked what had happened to his face before comprehending what Carlos was saying, and Carlos probably told him about how he tried to gallantly stop me from doing something so wrong, but then Dylan pulled a knife on him and thirty other boys - no, men - came along and he only managed to escape alive… but not before doing serious damage to each and every one of them.   
  
You may think I'm exaggerating about his exaggeration but trust me, I'm not. And Papa would believe every word of it. Then probably the words about Dylan and me sank in, and he rushed to his car angrily.   
  
The rest I can tell you are facts. He came to Dylan's house, extremely mad. He told me to leave with him right away, but I'm not that stupid. Mr. and Mrs. Michalchuk tried to intervene, but that only made Papa madder. And he did something I was expecting but never thought would happen. He hit me.   
  
I guess maybe I went a bit too far saying I'd be a fag for the rest of my life, but it was the truth. And he hit me. It hurt, too, but it was mostly the shock of the whole situation. Then finally Dylan's dad threatened to call the cops and he left.   
  
I guess they called my mama after that, and she's the best mother ever. She promised me they'd leave me alone, and I know they'll listen to her. I'm so thankful.   
  
But right now, all I want to do is to forget today. All of it. Ciao.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
-----   
  
"That sucks about Marco's dad," Spinner commented, as he and Paige left Dylan's room.   
  
"Yeah, but he'll be all right with Dylan. Dylan already went through with this, and he's still breathing," Paige responded, nodding slightly.   
  
"Yeah, but was it true… about what Dylan said? I mean, your parents?" Spinner continued, opening the door for his girlfriend and then following her into her room. "Were they really like that when he came out?"   
  
"Totally," she declared. "I was pretty young then, like twelve, but I remember it all really well. My mom would burst into tears every time Dyl walked into the room, and my dad would pick up the newspaper or a book or turn on the TV, and act like he wasn't even there. It was pretty sad."   
  
Spinner thought about that for a few seconds, before sitting on her bed and getting ready for sleep. "Weren't you upset?" he asked thoughtfully, peeling off his socks and flinging them into the corner of the room.   
  
"Me?" she asked, scoffing. "Of course not." And then, after a short pause, "I always wanted an older sister." The two of them laughed quietly, but then she continued in a more serious voice. "Well, I actually _was_ kind of upset at first, but only because I thought I was supposed to be. You know, I was just doing what I thought I should. But then, I saw how sad Dylan was all the time… and it got easier."   
  
"How'd it get easier?" Spin asked, raising an eyebrow. He started to gather the pillows and things he needed for bed.   
  
"Well, at first I just… asked questions. You know, was he sure? Could he try liking girls? He basically sat me down and told me he still wanted to be my older brother, and if I was uncomfortable with him liking boys, we didn't ever have to talk about it."   
  
"That's cool," he replied. They hadn't really ever had a conversation much like this one before, and Paige realized how understanding Spinner was trying to be. She appreciated it a lot. "Then what?"   
  
"Well, I told him that it was okay if we talked about it. And I -" she paused, and laughed "-I asked him who he thought was hot. He said, 'Orlando Bloom' and I knew that him being gay was the best thing that could've happened." She grinned, and Spinner snorted. "It stopped being him being gay, and started being him being the best older brother a girl could ever have."   
  
"You know, I'm not that bad of an older brother myself," Spinner pointed out, smirking.   
  
"I'm sure Kendra begs to differ. And besides, you threaten to beat up her boyfriend like, every other day."   
  
"Yeah, well, Isaacs deserves it."   
  
"I bet."   
  
"He bought _condoms_," Spinner retorted, narrowing his eyes. "She was twelve years old! And besides, he hangs out with that loser JT."   
  
"Hey, I happen to like JT," she shot back, putting her hands on her hips.   
  
He laughed. "Yeah, you would like him… for thirty dollars."   
  
"Hun, shut up! That was forever ago!" she giggled, shoving him backwards a little.   
  
"I'm just got glad I got you before another guy could," he said softly, grinning.   
  
Paige smiled up at her boyfriend, and then leaned in and kissed him sweetly on the lips. He kissed her back, and they pulled apart, beaming. "What was that for?" Spin asked her, looking pleased.   
  
"For being the best boyfriend a girl could ever have," she whispered, kissing him once more and then pulling him into a hug. When they pulled apart once more, Spinner picked up his bed things and grinned.   
  
"You know, I don't understand why _they_ can sleep in the same room - no, same _bed_ -- and we can't," he said, pouting.   
  
"Because my parents know you, Spin." She kissed him once more and then pointed at the door. "Good night, sweetie."   
  
"'Night honeybee," he returned, and then left the room to spend the night on the couch. He had a big smile on his face, and no complaints.   
  
-----   
  
Long after his eyes adjusted to the dark, and Marco's breathing became slow and regular indicating he was fast asleep, Dylan lay awake. He knew he should have been sleeping away comfortably, especially after the excruciatingly long day that had just occurred, but he couldn't imagine ever being more comfortable than he was now.   
  
Marco moved around in his sleep a lot; he'd noticed that the first time he spent the night. It was a rather large bed, and the younger boy had fallen asleep near the corner of the left side, a decent distance away from his boyfriend. Now that he'd been sleeping for a while, though, his leg was faintly touching Dylan's, and his arm was strewn across Dylan's stomach. He didn't dare move, because the warmth from Marco was nice.   
  
Rather than attempting to fall into a deep slumber, he shifted his eyes to the window. The sky was lit with stars, and the glowing of the full moon. He searched the sky for consolations that he knew, but he grew bored after finding Cassiopeia for the fourth time.   
  
So instead, he thought about Marco. His mind always drifted freely on that particular subject, and a memory automatically came to his mind that had taken place a few days after Marco's bashing, which he'd gotten full details of after Marco told Jimmy, who informed the rest of the gang, and Paige had instantly told him that night.   
  
_Dylan was walking through the halls on his way to class, as usual, books in hand. He glanced up when he reached the door, but paused when his eyes met Marco's. He was looking desperately sad, with a nasty scrape on his cheek as well as over his right eyebrow, and he stopped mid-stride.   
  
Paige had told him what had happened, and he knew what bashings were like, but maybe he wasn't expecting that. Or maybe he just had tons of emotion in his heart for the younger boy. Whatever it was, it sent chills down his entire body.   
  
Marco's stare was blank, maybe even frightened. He immediately adverted his eyes when Dylan opened the door to say something.   
  
"Wow," Dylan said, frowning intensely and raising his eyebrows. "They really did a number on you." Maybe it was an impulse that brought his hand up towards the shorter boy's face, but he didn't have time to think through his action. He'd only meant to delicately swipe away the dark hair that was hanging over his bandage, but Marco had just as quickly pushed it away with his own hand.   
  
"Yeah," he said dismissively, still not bringing his eyes to meet Dylan's. He automatically pushed past Dylan, leaving him confused and sympathetic.   
  
"Marco…" he said, baffled at the cold shoulder he was receiving.   
  
"Look," he replied in an indifferent tone, turning to face him once more. He was now staring him dead in the eye, with as little emotion as possible, so much that Dylan wished he would look away. "I'm fine, okay? So just leave me alone."   
  
With those words, he left Dylan by himself, hurt and still completely bewildered. He continued to watch his retreating back sadly for a few more moments, and then sullenly returned to class._   
  
Dylan snapped back to reality when, once more, Marco twisted in his sleep. Now his leg was intertwined with his, and his head was resting peacefully on Dylan's arm. He smiled slightly, but that memory was nagging him. No, more like tearing at his chest.   
  
Why had Marco decided to ignore him? He thought that perhaps Marco was trying to pretend to not be gay. Hadn't he told Dylan himself that he didn't realize he was attracted to men until they met? Sure, that was reasonable enough. He suddenly saw the reasoning. Straight kids didn't get mobbed in parks.   
  
But what was it that made him want to change his ways? Where did the change of attitude, that helped him open up to Dylan, come from?   
  
Sighing without realizing it, he emptied his mind of his suffocating thoughts and instead focused on Marco's face. He was adorable… especially when he was sleeping.   
  
And then he realized that he didn't care _why_ Marco came to him. What mattered was that Marco was laying merely inches away from him. What mattered was that he had gotten to kiss Marco. What mattered was that he was his boyfriend. The handprint on Marco's face was slightly noticeable, and Dylan wanted to rip Mr. del Rossi apart limb by limb to pay for what he'd done.   
  
Instead, he settled for looking at Marco's hand, which was merely inches from his face, and pressing his lips to it lightly. He smiled, then closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.   
  
-----   
  
"Good morning, Dad," Ellie said, stumbling wearily into the kitchen the next morning. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, which was understandable as she was outside after two AM. Her dad was sitting at the table, coffee cup in one hand and newspaper in the other,   
  
"Morning Ellie," her father returned, with a secretive smile. She looked at him oddly; he was beaming like he had caught her doing something she shouldn't have.   
  
"What's going on?" she asked slowly, eyeing her father suspiciously.   
  
Her dad took a long sip of his steaming coffee before looking her directly in the eye. "How was your night?"   
  
Her face paled some, and her stomach gave an involuntary flop. "Um, I… I slept okay." She forced a weak smile.   
  
"Oh, I don't mean that," he said; now grinning more broadly than ever.   
  
"What do you mean then?"   
  
"Ellie," he said, leaning forward and putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm a light sleeper, darling. Thought you knew that? I heard the whole thing - from your boyfriend breaking and entering our kitchen, through the _window_ no doubt, to you guys both leaving in the middle of the night, and not returning until later."   
  
Ellie's head was nearly spinning. "I heard your snores…" was the only thing she could think to say, wondering how much trouble she was going to be in.   
  
"It's not hard to fake a good snore," he grinned. For added emphasis, he gave out a loud, convincing enough to be real, snore.   
  
"I - I'm sorry, Dad. I mean, I didn't plan it or anything. I swear. He completely surprised me. And we didn't do anything! Trust me, Sean is nice. He just took me to the park, and it was _beautiful_, and all we did was watch some fireworks. I promise, we didn't do anything," she rambled, shooting out words a mile a minute.   
  
Mr. Nash gazed at her sternly for a few seconds, as she felt like she was shrinking smaller and smaller, until suddenly he started laughing. She stared in amazement while he gave her shoulder a loving squeeze.   
  
"I know," he admitted. "I had my doubts about Sean at first, but he is a nice boy. And I do trust you."   
  
She smiled, widely and genuinely this time. "Thanks, Daddy," she said, hugging him tightly.   
  
"But," he continued, changing his voice to a stricter tone, "that doesn't mean it's going to happen again. Understand me? If you're going to go off with him, it's going to be during the day. And, you get permission first. Okay?"   
  
She laughed slightly. "I understand. It won't happen again."   
  
"Bring that boyfriend of yours over for dinner again tonight, hmm? I want to have a good talk with him." He flashed her a short wink.   
  
"Oh, I will."   
  
"I'm so glad you're happy, baby," he said appreciatively, still smiling.   
  
"Me too." She smiled back again.   
  
"I love you."   
  
She gazed up at him, remembering how she had admired him for her entire life, and how depressed she felt whenever he was shipped off to somewhere new, and she couldn't help but feel her dad was the greatest man alive. "I love you too, Dad."   
  
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Wow, am I pathetic or what?! It took me forever to get this chapter up, and for that, I apologize. At first I thought to myself, _This story is going nowhere_ and I drifted away from it. I'm glad I got back to writing though, this story is fun. :D   
  
Please, please, please don't be afraid to leave comments and critiques, or just a little note saying you read the story. Thanks so much.   
  
**PS:** I promise the chapter 13 won't take so long to be put up. Actually, I'm going to start writing right away. :-) Thanks for reading! 


	13. Boys Day Out

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** I really don't own a thing, sadly.   
  
**Author's Note:** I'm not Italian. I don't know anyone who is Italian. So, please forgive me if the Italian words or phrases in this story are completely messed up. As far as the words I know, I'll put the translations at the bottom of the story. :-) Honestly, guys, I have the best reviewers ever. You all rock! You wouldn't believe how much better my day is when I get a nice review. Thanks SO much to everyone! That's what makes me want to write!   
  
I've gotten a lot of questions about my other story, **Dylan's Story**, and as much as I want to update it, you can tell how long it takes me to even work on this one. So please, bear with me, and I swear a second chapter will be added eventually. Thank you. :D   
  
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_Marco turned over onto his side, a yawn escaping his lips. He meekly blinked open his eyes, and smiled at the sight before him.   
  
"Good morning, Marco," Dylan grinned back, who was lying next to him, looking awake.   
  
"Morning," he muttered back, still sleepy.   
  
"I thought about you all night long," the blonde continued, leaning right next to his ear and whispering lightly.   
  
"You did?" he asked, surprised.   
  
"Yep." He moved his lips along Marco's cheekbone, hovering above him with only a tiny amount of space. "I kept thinking about…" If possible, he leaned closer, so their lips were barely touching. "This," he said, and kissed him, "exact," another kiss, "moment." The next kiss was much longer. As they continued kissing, Dylan shifted so their bodies were parallel.   
  
When he finally pulled away, Marco was nearly out of breath. His cheeks were bright red, but he was beaming a mile wide.   
  
"You're so cute," the older boy whispered, nuzzling Marco's neck with his lips.   
  
"Dylan…" he replied lightly, but he put his finger to his lips. The next thing out of Dylan's mouth completely surprised him.   
  
"Dude, get up."   
  
"W-what?" he stuttered, looking taken aback. Dylan was still looking at him lovingly, but the tone of his voice had changed.   
  
"I said get up. Come on!"   
  
Marco suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder (maybe it was Dylan's?) and the hand shook him.   
  
"Wake up!"_   
  
Marco jolted upright in bed, confused to see Spinner leaning over the bed rather than Dylan. "Spin…?"   
  
"You're impossible to wake up, you know that?" Realization dawned on him. It had been a dream.   
  
"Where's Dylan?" he asked disappointedly. And because Spinner was about to roll his eyes, he added, "And Paige?"   
  
"Dylan had an early practice. And Paige's parents are gonna be out of town tonight, so she decided she was gonna throw a party. So right now she's off buying stuff for it. Anyway, man, hurry up and get dressed."   
  
"For what?"   
  
Spinner actually did roll his eyes this time. "We were gonna hang out today, remember? Just you and me. I wanna get going early."   
  
"Oh, right." Marco smiled, and pulled back the covers. Jokingly, Spinner shielded his eyes when he climbed out of the bed, wearing just his boxers.   
  
"I'll be downstairs," Spinner announced before leaving the room.   
  
He started to get ready when, with a sharp intake of breath, he suddenly realized he hadn't brought any clothes to change into. _What am I supposed to do?_ he wondered, glancing around the room. Then he had an idea. Grinning slyly, he sauntered over to one of Dylan's dressers and casually pulled open the top drawer.   
  
He looked inside: just boxers and socks. He laughed loudly as he pulled out a pair of boxers that stuck out: they were lime green, with little hockey sticks and pucks all over them. Not exactly a fashion statement. Closing the drawer, he attacked the second one. Inside, he found all kinds of pants and shorts. He grabbed the pair nearest the top and gingerly held them up too his waist. They were much too large, so he folded them and replaced them in their spot. He grabbed a pair of jeans that looked smaller, and sized them up.   
  
To his surprise, they looked as though they would actually fit so he pulled them up on over his boxers. They were a little long, and he could probably use a belt, but he decided he would be able to wear them. Finally, he closed that drawer as well and went into the closet to look for a t-shirt. Nearly the whole closet was full of tees, and he had fun looking at them and deliberating on one he could wear.   
  
Many of the shirts were hockey-decorated, with team names or just pictures of hockey sticks and whatnot. Beyond those were dressier shirts; ones with collars and buttons. And after that, he found regular t-shirts. Solid colors, striped shirts, and store-brand named ones. He went back and grabbed a white-collared, long sleeve shirt and held up a red t-shirt over it. He decided they'd make a good combo, so he slid off his own shirt and put the others on instead.   
  
They, too, were big but not humongous or anything. He walked into the bathroom and examined himself. He kind of liked how he looked. He just hoped Dylan wouldn't be angry with him for wearing his clothes. He brushed his hair and teeth, then trotted downstairs to find Spinner on the couch facing the television, and Paige sitting next to him, the phone glued to her ear.   
  
"It's about time," Spinner grumbled, turning off the TV.   
  
"Hold on a sec, Hazel," Paige said into the phone, and then whipped her head around to Marco. "Wow, hun, looking sharp! Wait - aren't those…?"   
  
"Yeah," he said, blushing ferociously. "I, uh, didn't bring any others so I thought…"   
  
"Well, they look great on you! Anyway, you'll come to the party tonight right?" Marco hesitantly nodded and she smiled. "Great. You boys have fun today." She kissed Spinner on the cheek, and then returned to her phone conversation. "You there, Haze? Okay. Well, I was thinking… should I order pizzas or just buy snacks?"   
  
"Ready?" Spinner asked his friend, who nodded in return. "Dylan leant me his car, so… let's go." Grinning, they made their way outside and into Dylan's convertible.   
  
"What're we going to do today?" Marco asked him, buckling his seatbelt.   
  
"Well, today's all about us. So I thought we'd catch a sports game, eat tons of food, and go check out all the ladies." When Marco gave him a look, he laughed. "Just kidding, just kidding. Uh, we could play mini-golf, and then grab lunch, and then just do whatever."   
  
"Sounds good," Marco agreed, and the rest of the way to the miniature golf place, they fought over the radio stations (Spinner suggested rap while Marco wanted something with actual music).   
  
"Hey, we're here," Spinner announced after a little while, and they clambered in. Spinner grabbed his club and an orange ball, while Marco jokingly took a pink one.   
  
They made their way to the first hole. "I'll go first," Spin said, putting his ball down and looking at the hole. "I am the expert, after all." It was extremely simple, but Spinner took his time while he practiced his golf swing. Sticking out his tongue, he bent over the ball, and swung. The ball was sent straight over the hole, and continued going past hole two as well as three, and then finally straight into a grassy spot. Marco cracked up.   
  
"You're some expert." He was almost breathless with laughter.   
  
"Yeah, well, I'd like to see you do better," he dryly retorted.   
  
So Marco placed his pink ball down carefully, concentrated on the hole, and then swung. The ball slowly but surely rolled in the exact direction, and went straight into the hole. "Hole in one!" he scoffed, almost throwing it in Spin's face. In return, the curly-haired boy threw him a dirty look, but proceeded to eventually knock his own ball in.   
  
They painfully made their way through eighteen holes, and though Marco had started out well, he was almost as bad as Spinner. At the end, Marco had won but only by a bit.   
  
"Good game," Spinner grinned, "but I'll so get you next time."   
  
"Uh-huh. Sure, Spin."   
  
"Anyway, I'm starved. Let's go eat." Marco agreed and they climbed back into the car.   
  
"Where should we go?" Spinner asked, as he started up the vehicle.   
  
"I know this great restaurant on the other side of town," the Italian told him, and continued to direct him to the small café.   
  
When they arrived, Spinner opened his door and drew in a long breath. "Smells awesome. Hurry up, I'm hungry." He eagerly walked inside, Marco following right behind him.   
  
He glanced over the whole restaurant, but stopped dead when his eyes fell on something he did not want to see. "Oh no," he groaned quietly, and Spinner looked at him.   
  
"What?"   
  
"_He's_ here."   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Tom," he barely managed to choke out, a great look of distaste on his face. Spinner followed his eyes, and saw the familiar dark haired boy sitting at a table. He wasn't alone, though; a dirty-blonde fellow was sitting across from him, holding his hands.   
  
"Oh," Spin said sympathetically. He continued to watch for a few seconds, but then his sympathy turned to horror as the two men leaned in, over their plates, and kissed.   
  
"He sure moves on quickly," Marco muttered, almost angrily.   
  
"Let's just leave," Spinner suggested, turning to face the door. "Wait!" He paused. Slowly, he turned around so he was facing Marco again, but with a giant smirk. "Do you know which car is Tom's?"   
  
"Y-yes," he said gradually, confused. "Why?"   
  
"Come on," the other said mischievously, grabbing Marco by the wrist and yanking him outside.   
  
Once into the sunlit street again, Spinner slowed down his pace and thoughtfully gazed around. "Hmm…" he said lowly, cocking his head from side to side. "Aha!" His eyes lit up at something across the street. "Stay here," he instructed Marco.   
  
"What are you -?" he began, but Spinner was already dashing across the empty road and disappearing into a small store. Confused, Marco turned back and looked into the window of the restaurant. He could still see Tom and his date, who seemed to be attached by the lips. He watched Tom put his hand to the other's face, and he watched them pull away, with wide grins.   
  
"Marco!" He tore his eyes away and once again looked at his best friend, who was trotting towards him with a bag in his hands.   
  
"What're you doing?" he asked curiously. "What did you buy?"   
  
"You'll see," was his vague reply. "Now, which car is Tom's?" Marco knew asking questions would get him nowhere, so instead he squinted his eyes and looked for the familiar red car Tom had been driving in.   
  
"There it is," he said, pointing at a car parked to the side.   
  
"Perfect." Once again, Spinner began dragging him away, but this time they headed towards the car. "Now…" With a large grin, he opened the bag and showed its contents to his accomplice. With an arched eyebrow, Marco stared into the bag. Inside, he found eggs, shaving cream, and toilet paper.   
  
"What…?" he started, but comprehension hit him like a ton of bricks. "Spinner! No! No, no, no."   
  
"Why not?" he asked, looking innocent.   
  
"It's completely wrong. It's… not good. It's…" Marco desperately searched for the words to say, to prevent him from doing something he shouldn't have.   
  
"He kissed your dude!" Spinner refuted, and that struck a nerve.   
  
Slowly, he looked at him, a new kind of determination burning in his face. "Okay," he gave in at last. "Give me the toilet paper."   
  
"All right!" So while Spinner began throwing eggs all over the shiny, almost new car, Marco began wrapping toilet paper around the wheels, and then moving on to the main part.   
  
"Here," Spin said, shoving an egg into Marco's hands. He skeptically eyed it, but he insisted, "It'll make you feel better." So he pulled his arm back, and threw the egg -- _splat!_ -- right onto the windshield. When all of the toilet paper and eggs were gone, the car was already a wreck.   
  
Grinning, Spinner removed the final two bottles of shaving cream from the bag, almost as if they were holy. He handed one to Marco, and then the two boys attacked the car. They sprayed it everywhere they could, sometimes just doodles, but other times they wrote phrases. Marco even sucked up enough courage to write **"I SUCK"** in large, shaving cream letters on the top of the trunk.   
  
Spinner laughed as he sprayed **"MAN-WHORE"** onto the car. Luckily, Marco glanced back at the restaurant then, just in time to see Tom and his new boyfriend exit, holding hands.   
  
"Crap! Spinner, there he is!" They grabbed their litter, and once again Spinner grabbed his shirt and tugged him into a nearby bush. They hid themselves as the new couple drew nearer.   
  
The two in the bush suppressed their laughs and snorts as they heard Tom shout, "What the hell?!"   
  
Tom's boyfriend laughed and said, "What happened to your car, man?"   
  
"Yeah, this is really funny," Tom retorted viciously.   
  
"I'm sorry," the blonde said, trying to stop laughing. "But… _Man-whore?!_"   
  
"I'm _not_ a man-whore. And I am going to kick someone's ass if I ever find out who the hell did this to my car."   
  
"I dunno, Tommy. I think it kinda suits you."   
  
"I'm not a man-whore," he repeated, growling. "And don't call me Tommy."   
  
"I bet one of your exes did this," the boyfriend said thoughtfully.   
  
"Yeah, maybe… oh my God! I bet Michalchuk did this!" In the bush, Marco and Spinner looked at each other, shaking silently with laughter.   
  
"Michalchuk?" Tom's beau said, questioningly.   
  
"Yeah, this guy I used to date. He was a hunk. I mean, we were really close and then we, you know, split for a while. Next thing I know, he's with this little boy, way younger than him. Well we went on a date, me and Dylan, and he brought he little kid along. I kissed him, and he got all huffy and said he was dating the little boy." Marco was fuming almost as much as Tom by now. _Little boy?!_   
  
"Sounds like a winner," Tom's boyfriend said, laughing. "So, are you still gonna drive me home? Or will I have to walk and miss the fun of riding in your, uh, decorated car."   
  
"Shut up," he replied sourly. He began ripping some of the toilet paper off, but it was little doing compared to the huge mess that was covering his car.   
  
"We'll clean this up at home, okay?" the boyfriend said, grabbing Tom's hands.   
  
"Yeah, okay." They kissed once more, so much that Marco stared down at the ground. Spinner made a small, retching noise.   
  
"Doesn't make me any less pissed," Tom said, scowling.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know." He walked around the back of the car, and started laughing again. "You suck, huh?" he asked, a grin tugging at his lips. "You suck what, exactly?"   
  
Tom looked at the shaving cream, gave his boyfriend a hostile look, and said gruffly, "I think you know." He climbed into the car, and laughing, his boyfriend got in as well. The car backed out, and then took off, toilet paper, whip cream, and egg shells flying off the car.   
  
"_Sick!"_ Spinner said, who actually looked like he was going to be sick. The two stepped out of the bush, and looked at each other. "It was worth it," he finally went on. "He was so pissed!"   
  
Chuckling, Marco nodded. "Yeah, I guess it was." But something inside of him had clicked, and he felt a little shaken up. He did his best to push aside that emotion, though, as Spinner suggested actually going to get food.   
  
The two continued to do fun things for the rest of the day, and Marco was sure he hadn't laughed so hard in a _long_ time. Finally, after a long day, Spinner drove back to the Michalchuk house.   
  
They reached the house, and they walked into the house side-by-side.   
  
"Hey boys!" Paige greeted them sweetly. "How was your day?"   
  
"It was fun," Marco replied. "Um, is…?"   
  
He didn't have to finish his question, though, because Dylan came bounding into the room at that moment, smiling. "Hey Marco, Spinner. You're finally back, huh?" He stopped when he saw Marco, and burst out laughing.   
  
Confused, Marco looked to the other two teens in the room for help. Suddenly, though, he realized what Dylan was laughing about. He started rambling, "I'm so sorry, Dyl. I mean, we had to leave and I didn't wanna go home and I didn't bring any clothes so I just thought, you know, I could borrow yours. But I mean, I'll clean them and give them back and I really am really sorry. I didn't know if you would mind or not so I thought I'd just wear them for today and… did I mention how sorry I am?"   
  
"Marco, chill!" he laughed. "It's okay. I don't mind. They look good on you. Actually, they look better on you then they do on me."   
  
"No, that's just because Marco has way better fashion sense than you, Dyl. You would have never thought of mixing those two shirts."   
  
"True. Anyway, Paige, send out all the invitations and stuff?"   
  
"Sure did."   
  
At that moment, the phone started ringing and Dylan grinned. "I'll get it." He trotted over to the phone, picked it up, and put it to his ear. "Hello?" he paused, and his eyebrows arched. The other three watched on curiously. "Uh, hi Tom." Spinner and Marco looked at each other, eyes wide. "Your car? Tom, I was nowhere near your car… No, I had hockey practice today." Marco felt bad, but he also thought the situation was pretty funny.   
  
Dylan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Jealous? About your new boyfriend? Definitely _not_. I'm telling you, I didn't touch your car!" He sighed. "Listen, I don't know who messed up your car but I know it wasn't me. Okay. Okay. Yeah. Bye." He hung up the phone, staring at it. "That was odd," he finally said, lifting his head to look at the other three.   
  
"What?" Paige asked, because Marco and Spinner were just trying to keep a straight face.   
  
"Tom just called. He thinks I messed up his car, with toilet paper and eggs and whip cream or something -"   
  
"Shaving cream," Spinner corrected him, interrupting. Marco glared at him, while Paige and Dylan merely stared.   
  
"How do _you_ know?" Dylan asked, crossing his arms.   
  
"I - I don't know. I mean, I just figure if you were gonna d-do something to someone's car, you know, you'd probably use shaving cream, not whip cream. Right, Marco?" Spinner said quickly, looking to his friend for help.   
  
"Oh yeah. Definitely. I mean, shaving cream is much more, um," he gulped, "better?"   
  
"What's going on?" Dylan asked sternly. He paused. "Oh, you didn't…"   
  
"Yeah, we did," Spinner grinned meekly.   
  
"Sorry," Marco offered.   
  
The oldest boy continued staring for a few more seconds, and Marco felt his cheeks growing completely red. Finally, though, Paige burst out laughing and Dylan soon joined in. The two boys began telling the story of exactly what happened, and everyone laughed the whole way through.   
  
After the story, Paige and Spinner took to kissing on the couch, leaving the other two boys by themselves.   
  
"So, um, I was thinking… maybe I should go home and change before the party? And I could, just, grab some stuff for tonight?" Marco looked up at Dylan uncertainly, who in return, gave him a bright smile.   
  
"Great. Need a ride?"   
  
Relieved, Marco smiled. "Yeah."   
  
-----   
  
Marco took a deep breath before turning the doorknob. He looked back at Dylan, who gave him an encouraging smile and waved him on. He turned back to the door and opened it, stepping in. He didn't see anyone at first, so he walked into the living room. There they were: his mother and father were sitting on chairs across from each other, talking rapidly in Italian.   
  
Marco awkwardly looked in between his parents, not wanting them to see him. Eventually, though, his mother looked up and exclaimed, "Marco!"   
  
"Hey Ma," he said weakly. He had to force the next word out. "…Pa."   
  
Giving his father a stern looked, his mother went on, "How are you, _il mio figlio_?" She often spoke Italian phrases at home, which Marco knew and understood.   
  
"I'm great, Mama. Just, um, picking up some stuff to spend the night at Dylan's. Um, is that okay?" His dad stared hard at him but his mom smiled.   
  
"Of course. _Te amo_, Marco. Have fun tonight."   
  
"_Grazie_, Ma, I will. I love you too." Gulping nervously, he cleared his throat. "See you tomorrow, Papa." He suddenly thought of his dad ridiculing Dylan, calling him a faggot, smacking him… Stumbling backwards slightly, he braced himself for the reply.   
  
In a very slow pace, his father brought his head forward, so his eyes were burning holes in Marco's face, and he curtly nodded. Though Marco hadn't expected any better - he was even a little bit relieved - it still disappointed him. He went up the stairs, two at a time, towards him room. When he flung open the door, he gasped.   
  
With a strangled little cry, he turned away from the nearly empty room and dashed back down the stairs. When he reached the living room, he hardly managed to get out angrily, "Where's my stuff?!" His mother looked clueless for a few seconds, but he was sure he saw the corners of his dad's mouth twitch into a tiny smirk.   
  
"Your stuff?" she asked slowly, and then with her mouth open slightly, turned to her husband. "Oh, Antonio, you didn't!"   
  
"I didn't do anything," he said gruffly.   
  
"Antonio, you promise! I don't believe you." She hurriedly stood up, shaking her first at her husband. "You leave Marco alone. Where is his stuff?"   
  
"Garage," he grunted, looking down and not at the other two.   
  
"I'm leaving, Ma. I love you." With a look of loathing thrown at his father, he left the house and entered the garage. All of his posters, decorations, and other items were lining the sides. He opened one of the boxes that had his clothes, and grabbed some from it. He threw a bunch of things into a bag and crossly exited.   
  
Dylan's car was still parked in the driveway, but he was no longer sitting in it. He was hunched over the hood, trying to wipe away something red.   
  
"What happened?" Marco asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"Your brother threw a balloon full of paint out from the window and hit the car."   
  
"I'm sorry," the younger boy moaned, looking at the window to Carlos' bedroom and seeing his older brother disappear from view in a flash.   
  
"Not your fault," Dylan reminded him. "Did you get everything?"   
  
"Yeah. But my dad took everything out of my room but the bed and dressers and put it all into boxes in the garage."   
  
"Oh man. That sucks."   
  
"Yeah," he said again.   
  
"Are you ready to go?" Dylan asked, forcing a smile on to his face.   
  
"Mm-hmm. I wanna get out of here as soon as possible. If looks could kill, my dead body would be laying in a pile on the living room floor right about now." Dylan laughed at that statement, and he had to join in. Still chuckling, the two got in the car and drove away, red paint hitting the windshield every so often.   
  
After the laughing died down, the two sat in companionable silence for a bit. Finally, Marco looked at his boyfriend. "I really appreciate you helping me with… with all of this."   
  
"No problem," he returned with a smile.   
  
"I never could have done it - any of it - without you. What I'm trying to say is… you don't have to stick with me."   
  
Dylan laughed slightly. "Trust me, Marco, if I didn't want to stick with you, I would have been gone a _long_ time ago. I really do like you. A lot."   
  
"I like you a lot too," Marco said, smiling, and feeling extremely relieved. They'd had this conversation before, but Marco wasn't sure he believed him.   
  
"I think thing's are gonna get better really soon. You're lucky to have so many people that care about you."   
  
"I know."   
  
"Hey, what's going on?" Dylan had drove within viewing distance of the Michalchuk residence, but he was surprised to see many cars lined up around the house.   
  
"The party, remember?" Marco reminded him. "I guess it's started."   
  
"Guess so. But… Paige didn't say she was going to invite this many people. Mom and Dad would kill her if they found out."   
  
"We'll just have to make sure they don't find out then," Marco grinned. "Now come on. Let's join the party."   
  
Dylan smiled and agreed, "Sounds good to me!"   
  
**[Journal entry 11]   
  
Spinner Mason**   
  
Today was totally fun. I woke up pretty early and paige was already awake. She decided to have a party or whatever at her house tonight so she was on the phone all day inviting people. The party is gunna be fun to.   
  
Anyway today marco and I did all kinds of things together. I know hes still gay and all but I guess I got over it. It doesn't bother me as much and its not like that's all he talks about. So as long as he doesn't talk about makin out with other dudes or anything, we're cool.   
  
We ran into the dude that hit on Paige's brother Dylan today and Marco really does hate him. But I came up with the master plan. I bought some eggs shaving cream and toilet paper and we messed up his car BIG time.   
  
It was so cool. The dude was so mad. So now everythings ok between me and Marco and everythings all good.   
  
Not to mention I had an awesome make-out session with Paige.   
  
k I'm done with this.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
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**Italian translations:**   
_il mio figlio - my son   
te amo - I love you   
grazie - thank you_   
  
Sorry if those are incorrect! Okay, anyway, yay, this chapter is done! It didn't take me as long this time. Sorry if you thought this chapter was boring. I thought I would need it. Next chapter will be more exciting, I promise! They're gonna party down and some surprising things will happen.   
  
Guess you'll have to find out what by reading the next chapter! It'll be up soon, I promise.   
  
**over 'n' out!**


	14. The Party

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** I really don't own a thing, sadly.   
  
**Author's Note:** God, I'm the worst author on here. I completely forgot I'd be leaving for a week, so this story hasn't been updated in a long time. Please forgive me. I just wanted to point out, as Nick reminded me; Tom has made a huge appearance in almost every Marco/Dylan story lately. If I had known that would be the case, I would have gladly renamed Tom. Because I brought him into the story long before ever seeing "It's Raining Men". In fact, the only reason his name is Tom is because on Degrassi.tv, Dylan's journal states:   
  
_to this day we've never really talked about it but whenever my friends come over, especially ones like Tom who are hard to mistake for straight my dad is always nice to them as long as the conversations keeps to neutral territory._   
  
That is the only reason Tom came to life. He wasn't based off It' Raining Men Tom, but was mostly all imagination. When I finally did see Tom on It's Raining Men, however, the show character helped sway my story character. I really wanted to get that off my chest. And actually, if you're interested, Carlos was mentioned on Marco's journal once upon a time.   
  
Alsoalso, Isdule07 asked the smart question of "Where did he get the toothbrush?" I hate when the readers are smarter than the authors. :P Let's just say it appeared out of thin air, eh?   
  
And to end my longest author's note ever, thanks to EVERYONE who read the story - and a double thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed!   
  
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"I am _so_ bored," Sean sighed, once again.   
  
"I know," Ellie replied flatly. "You've said it at least thirty times in the last five minutes. Okay, I get it. You're bored." She put the magazine she was holding down, and looked at Sean. He was lying on the floor, feet propped up on the bed and hands cushioning his head.   
  
"Well, I am." Grunting slightly, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Let's do something."   
  
"Like what? Look outside." She gestured to the window, where rain was beating hard against the pane. "It's pouring. We've already looked at the movies playing. You don't want to see any of them."   
  
"They're chick flicks," he retorted.   
  
Pretending not to notice that he had interrupted her, she went on, "You don't want to play a card game because they're "for little kids". You don't want to go get dinner because you just ate. So what do you want to do?"   
  
Once more, he began to butt in with a whiny comment, but Ellie didn't leave him any room to.   
  
"We watched TV. We got online. So what, Sean? What would make you less bored?"   
  
He found himself a little sheepish now. "I don't know." He reached over and grabbed the magazine Ellie was reading. "Teen People? You've got to be bored too. Where are all of your annoying, angsty, preppy friends tonight?"   
  
Glaring at him, she answered, "My annoying, angsty, preppy friends are at a party."   
  
"Party?" he said, perking up a little bit.   
  
"Slow down. I said a party. Very vaguely. You have no idea of what kind of party it is." She rolled her eyes.   
  
"Well, what kind of party is it?"   
  
"Two words: Paige Michalchuk. She invited all of her friends over."   
  
"How do you know about it?" he inquired, looking at her oddly.   
  
"She didn't invite _me_," she said cynically, reading his mind. "Marco told me about it. He's going."   
  
"Well, let's go."   
  
Blinking, Ellie was sure she hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"   
  
"I said let's go. To the party." He waved towards the door, as if to tell her they were going to get up and leave. "When have you ever wanted to skip a party?" he continued, when she didn't make any notions to stand.   
  
"You must have not heard me. I said _Paige Michalchuk_ is throwing a party. You know, one of those parties where everyone sits in a circle on the floor and spins a bottle, and everyone else giggles as two people kiss? The kind that only has potato chips and lemonade?" She rolled over on her stomach, and gave him an incredulous look when he seemed unfazed.   
  
"Then lets crash it," he explained, grinning.   
  
"It's an invite only party," she said lamely, when she couldn't think of anything else to say.   
  
"So? Paige invited Marco, Marco invited you. You're inviting me, and _I_ am inviting Jay."   
  
"Sean," Ellie said, thinking what Sean was doing was irrational.   
  
He paid no heed, though, as he snatched the phone and started punching in numbers. Putting the phone up to his ear, he waited for it to ring a few times before Jay answered. "Jay? Yeah, it's me, Sean. Listen, want to crash a party tonight? Yeah. It's at the Michalchuk house." Jay said something to him, and Sean turned away from Ellie as if he didn't want her to hear what he was going to say next. "Yeah, Homochuk and his boyfriend will be there."   
  
Ellie, however, did hear and she shoved Sean's shoulder. "You guys are _not_ going to say anything," she warned.   
  
Brushing her off, Sean turned back to his phone conversation. "Yeah, we'll meet you there in half an hour. Yeah, bring Towerz. Okay." He hung up the phone and beamed at his girlfriend.   
  
"What, you guys too "gangster" to say goodbye?" she teased him, grinning.   
  
Narrowing his eyes and scoffing, he said simply, "No."   
  
"Look, if the party gets too out of hand we're leaving."   
  
"Yeah yeah yeah." There was a sudden knock on Ellie's door, ultimately ending the conversation. Standing up, Ellie gave her boyfriend a skeptical look and then stood and opened the door. To her slight dismay, her father was standing there, smiling brightly.   
  
"Uh… hey Dad," Ellie said tensely.   
  
"Hello honey." He kissed her forehead slightly, and then looked around the room. His smile turned into a stern frown as his eyes landed on Sean. "Hello Sean."   
  
"Hi Mr. Nash."   
  
"Sean, I'd like to talk to you," her father said, crossing the room and sitting in a chair across from Sean. Sensing the seriousness in his voice, he too sat upright and looked emotionless.   
  
"About what?" Sean said, trying to put on a falsely polite tone, while arching an eyebrow.   
  
"About you sneaking into my house at about fourteen hundred hours - that's two AM," he noted, when Sean looked confused, "waking up my baby girl, taking her outside, and not coming back for some time afterwards."   
  
Sean gulped. "Well, see… I - I was just trying to do something nice…" Mr. Nash's eyes were missing the usual twinkle, and Sean thought nervously about the weapons he was sure to have with him. His eyes briefly darted to the doorway. Should he try to make a run for it?   
  
Mr. Nash stared at him hard, as if trying to crack him. And he was extremely close to succeeding, judging by the way that Sean was fidgeting around. "Do you know what could have happened to you guys, being alone in the dark?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just…"   
  
"Do you know what I would have done if something had happened to my daughter?" he went on, paying no heed to Sean's nervous ramblings.   
  
"I can guess…" Sean mumbled. Ellie was actually sort of enjoying this; she'd never seen her boyfriend so nervous and vulnerable.   
  
"Well, it won't happen again, right?"   
  
"No. No. Of course not." He shook his head vigorously.   
  
"Good." He now cracked a slight smile, and put his hand on his shoulder. "You would regret hurting my baby. Next time, make sure her father knows where she's going."   
  
Sean nodded, and Mr. Nash began to leave when Sean blurted out, "Wait!"   
  
"Yes?" Ellie's dad asked, raising an eyebrow. Ellie too looked at him curiously.   
  
Sean smirked before going on, "Do I have your permission to escort your lovely daughter to a party tonight?" He was obviously trying his hardest to be charming and witty at the same time.   
  
Mr. Nash laughed loudly before responding. "Will it be chaperoned?"   
  
"Uh…" He only hesitated for a second. "Definitely." This might not have been a lie, but he was never sure and it couldn't hurt to assume, right?   
  
"Well…" He considered it for a second, and it was only when Ellie gave him a look that he gave in. "Okay, okay. But have her home by ten?"   
  
"_Dad!_" Ellie said.   
  
"Fine. 1 AM and not a second later. Got it?"   
  
"Got it," Sean grinned.   
  
Mr. Nash laughed again. "You're a good kid, Sean." He paused seriously. "Don't change that, okay?" Still smiling, he left the room.   
  
"Well…" Sean said, and the two were silent for a few seconds. He grinned finally. "Ready to go?"   
  
-----   
  
Marco opened the front door to the Michalchuk house, and was surprised to see how crowded the room was. Loud music was thumping, people were dancing, some were making out on the couch, and others were madly eating pizza slices. He turned to his boyfriend, who looked almost as astonished as he did. "I thought this was invite-only," Marco said, raising his voice over the blaring music.   
  
"Yeah," Dylan replied, hardly audible, "me too." He let out a little grunt as some guys he didn't recognized shoved past him and disappeared into the crowd.   
  
"Let's go find Paige," the younger one suggested, and received a nod in return. For mainly security reasons, Dylan grabbed Marco's hand and they began wading through the clumps of people, being griped at every few seconds for knocking into someone. Finally, though, they caught sight of Paige dumping bags of potato chips into bowls, which seemed to vanish every time she finished.   
  
"Paige!" Dylan nearly yelled, and she looked up. "Who is everyone? Why are they all here?"   
  
"What?!" she yelled back, not able to hear her brother.   
  
"I said why is everyone here!" he shouted in a much louder tone.   
  
"I don't know! I only invited a few people and then suddenly everyone started showing up! It was impossible to keep them out!"   
  
Dylan, tired of straining his voice, fumbled over to the machine from which the music was playing, and turned the volume down a great amount.   
  
"Hey!" somebody yelled. "Turn that back up!"   
  
Ignoring the complainers, he went back to his boyfriend and sister. "That's better." Just then, he looked over at the door and groaned. "Paige, please tell me you didn't invite… _them_."   
  
She too craned her neck to look at the doorway to see a bunch of people entering. "I didn't!" she said honestly. At this point, Marco stood on his tiptoes and glanced over the heads of the crowd. To his horror, he saw Jay and his gang walking in, or rather waddling like tough guys, and carrying cases of beer over their shoulders.   
  
"I thought we agreed!" Dylan said to Paige, pointing at her accusingly. "_No alcohol!_"   
  
"I didn't tell them to bring it! And besides, chill out. It's not like you haven't been drunk before." Dylan's face paled slightly, and Marco curiously looked at him.   
  
"Well - I swear, if I catch you drinking…" he warned his little sister, but it was a bit feeble.   
  
"Same goes to you," she shot back, smirking.   
  
Marco was still watching the door, and to his surprise, Ellie came into the room right after Sean did. He hadn't expected her to show up - especially right after Jay, Towerz, and their friends. "There's Ellie," Marco said to Dylan. "Let's go say hi." He nodded, so they began, once again, charging through the hordes of teens.   
  
"Hey," Marco said to Ellie, and she smiled at him. "I didn't know you were coming," he went on.   
  
"Yeah, I - I thought I'd stop in… is that okay?" she asked, glancing at Jay, who was already opening a can of beer.   
  
"Yeah, of course! I'm glad you came." He grinned at her, but the grin faded when he caught sight of his boyfriend, who was shooting daggers with his eyes at the company. Jay just then realized Marco and Dylan were standing there, and he smirked.   
  
"Well if it isn't Homochuk and his boyfriend," Jay sneered, grinning.   
  
"Shut up Jay," Dylan shot at him.   
  
"Didn't your mother ever teach you faggots should watch their mouths?" he laughed, pinching Dylan's cheek mockingly. Dylan hurriedly knocked the hand away. "Oh, and he's even got a damn temper."   
  
"You blow your father with that mouth, Jay?" Dylan snapped, and Jay's hardened face grew scarily furious.   
  
"What did you just say to me?" he said in a gravelly voice.   
  
"You heard me."   
  
"You mother fu -" he started to lunge at Dylan, but Sean, after Ellie cast him an alarming look, grabbed his shoulders. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Cameron? Don't tell me you're a queer now too."   
  
"Drop it, Jay," Sean said, not letting go.   
  
"_Drop it_?" he repeated incredulously. "Drop it? Fag insults me in front of my face and you want me to drop it? What's the matter with you? You going gay on me or something?"   
  
"No, I'm not going gay," he said, as though the idea repulsed him a bit. "He's not worth it, man."   
  
"Yeah, right. You're just defending him because you're whipped by that vampire girlfriend of yours."   
  
"Watch it, man! I mean it!" Sean said loudly.   
  
Jay opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly a blonde girl in a tight belly shirt appeared next to them. "Jay, are we gonna get drunk and have sex already or what?" He closed his mouth, looking contemplative, and then finally turned to the girl.   
  
"Yeah, let's go." He took out two beers, gave one to her, and then handed the rest of the pack to Towerz. He started to walk off with her, then stopped suddenly, and looked at Dylan. "This isn't over, Homochuk." Finally, he left.   
  
Marco looked at Dylan. "He's such a dick," Dylan said, shaking his head.   
  
"Yeah," said a voice from behind them. "But that was one damn good comeback."   
  
The two whirled around, only to see Ty, who had spoken, Jeff, Brad, and Scott beaming at them. "When did you guys get here?" Dylan asked them, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"During your little rendezvous with Hobart there," Brad answered.   
  
"But we were ready to protect our little Dyllie if anything got out of hand," Jeff added with a smirk.   
  
"Funny," Dylan said dryly.   
  
"Hey, man," Ty said to Towerz, who was being his usual strong but silent self. "Can we borrow these?" And without waiting for a reply, "Thanks." He yanked the case of beers out his hands and started passing them out to his friends. After handing one to Dylan, he looked at Marco. "Want one?"   
  
He contemplated drinking one, but his mother's lecturing voice filled his head and he said, "Nah." Dylan, however, had already opened his and was sipping it.   
  
"Ellie?" Ty asked, remembering her name from the lunch they had shared.   
  
"No thanks."   
  
"What about you, Vanilla Ice?" he went on, referring to Sean. He got a glare in return, and Sean moodily grabbed Ellie's arm and the two stomped off.   
  
"Temper tantrum. Hey, you never know, I just might be the next title of a rap song." He started beat boxing, rather badly, and then in a ridiculously deep voice, he rapped, "T-t-t-Ty, you know yo' gonna d-d-d-die, you make me wanna cry, 'cause I'm gangsta."   
  
"Give it up, man!" Scott said, staring at him. They all couldn't help but laugh, though.   
  
"That wasn't a very nice way to treat our boy Dylan's rescuer," Brad said, smirking.   
  
"Yeah, I really needed him to rescue me from Big Bad Jay," Dylan scoffed, with a swig of his beer. "So, Marco, you wanna dance?"   
  
Though normally he would've jumped at the chance, he had to go to the bathroom really badly, so he smiled and said, "I've gotta go to the bathroom, but uh, how about a dance when I get back?"   
  
Nodding, Dylan grinned and said, "Of course." He winked, and then turned to Ty. "What about you, Ty? Wanna get down and dirty?"   
  
"Sorry Dyl," Ty replied, shaking his head. "But don't worry… it's not you, it's me." He cracked a grin.   
  
"Got that right," Dylan laughed.   
  
Marco fumbled upstairs, and went into the bathroom. To his disgust, a couple he didn't know were making out on the bathroom floor "Dude, what do you think you're doing?" the guy asked, glaring at him hard.   
  
"Uh… I have to pee."   
  
"Find somewhere else, then!" he shot, and Marco quickly left. He didn't know where any other bathroom in the house was, and by now, he _really_ had to go. Silently, Marco turned towards the balcony. He knew what he had to do.   
  
Quickly he made his way outside to the balcony, checking all around for any onlookers. No one was down there. He didn't want to act out a scene from American Pie, he thought, and then he laughed at the idea.   
  
Quickly, he began to relieve himself. Suddenly, the sound of doors opening made him stop dead in his tracks.   
  
"Marco? What're you d - oh my God! Uh… s-sorry!" Paige's shrill voice rang out, and he quickly zipped his pants again, cheeks burning. Paige was shielding her eyes with her hands, cheeks almost as red as his.   
  
"I - I - the bathroom was taken," he stuttered lamely.   
  
"Why didn't you use the other bathroom?" she asked, now staring at him.   
  
"I didn't know there was one," he said, and his voice hardly came out above a whisper.   
  
"Oh, well, um, no problem, right? I mean sure, I got a little more than I bargained for, but… boy will this make a great story in school."   
  
"_Paige_!"   
  
"I'm kidding, hun, I'm kidding."   
  
He started to leave, then looked at her. "Where's Spinner?"   
  
"He went to the store to…" She winced. "Buy spray cheese." They both laughed. After a slight pause, Paige looked at him. "Shouldn't you be dancing with my brother?"   
  
"Brother?" he said, playing dumb. "What brother?"   
  
"Oh, you know. Tall, blonde, madly in love with you? Dylan?"   
  
"Hmm…" He jokingly scratched the side of his cheek, as though deep in thought. "Sorry, no. Doesn't ring a bell."   
  
"Oh, don't make me tell him what just happened," she threatened with a grin.   
  
"Oh, that Dylan!" he said hurriedly. "Of course. Yeah, I'm going back down now."   
  
"Good boy," she said with a grin.   
  
In return, he shot her a grin as well and then went back into his house and retraced his footsteps. It didn't take long for him to spot Dylan's golden curls, and he forced his way over to them.   
  
The older boy was now holding four or five empty cups of beer, and he, along with all of his other friends, was drunkenly laughing at something Scott was saying. When he saw Marco, though, he seemed to almost sober up… but only a little bit.   
  
"Marco, hey! What took you so long? You fall in?"   
  
He laughed. "No, actually, I, um, I ran into Paige." Okay, so it wasn't a _complete_ lie.   
  
"Oh right. Well, you know, I think you owe me a dance."   
  
"I don't know," he teased. "Every guy here's trying to dance with me. You're going to have to make a better proposal than that."   
  
"Oh really? Well, then how about this: we'll dance, and then I'll take your hand and lead you upstairs and then…" he stopped talking, and Marco impatiently urged him to continue.   
  
"And then? And then _what_?"   
  
"You'll have to dance with me to find out." A grin tugged at the blonde's lips.   
  
"Is that the best you have? Because, you know, Spinner's making an especially great offer," he went on. Dylan flashed him his best puppy-dog eyes, and Marco immediately gave in. "Okay, okay, let's dance." Beaming, Marco took his hand and led him into a crowd of people.   
  
Somehow, they ended up next to Sean and Ellie, who were also dancing, and Marco and Ellie exchanged knowing looks.   
  
The next song came on, and it had a rapid beat. Marco was surprised to see that Dylan was an awesome dancer, slightly drunk or not. Worried, Marco tried to keep up but he was sure he'd make a fool of himself.   
  
Dylan had obviously taken notice, because he grinned and said into Marco's ear, "You're trying too hard. Just feel the music." Closing his eyes, Marco loosened up a bit. Dancing became subtly easier for him.   
  
A new song came on, a bit slower, and the younger boy grinned at his boyfriend. "I love this song."   
  
-----   
  
"I love this song," Ellie said to Sean with a smile. He grinned back at her as they continued to dance. Neither of them said anything else for a little while, until finally, "Look, Sean, I just wanted to say… thanks."   
  
"For what?" Sean asked with a raised eyebrow.   
  
"For stopping Jay. And for… for defending me, I guess."   
  
"Did you expect me to let him insult my girlfriend in front of my face?" he asked doubtfully.   
  
She laughed slightly. "Well, no. But you didn't have to."   
  
"I wanted to."   
  
"You know, you're a really good dancer," she told him, blushing slightly. He looked into her eye and smiled, if only a little one. "Let me guess; Dancing For Gangsters 101?"   
  
He was the one to laugh this time. "Not exactly. You've really got to lay off this. Every non-gangster thing I've ever done, you've criticized me for it. Do you want me to fall into the whole stereotype perfectly? Should I start only grunting and only saying things like "whatever" and "straight up"?"   
  
"No," she replied. "Straight up is more wigger, actually."   
  
They once again fell into a comfortable silence, but it was Sean to finally break it this time. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked, steering her away from Marco and Dylan a bit.   
  
"Sure."   
  
"Why do you like Marco so much?"   
  
At this question, she stopped dancing and stared at him. He innocently stared back, as if he was asking legitimately, and not to be rude. It took her a second or two to began functioning normally again, but she was able to continue dancing as she answered. "There's nothing to not like about him. He's caring, he's sweet, he's…"   
  
"Gay," Sean finished, as though he didn't understand perfectly.   
  
"Well, yeah, he's gay, but that's not a choice."   
  
"Not a choice?" he repeated, arching a single eyebrow. "You like girls or you like guys. How is that not a choice?"   
  
"He can't help liking guys," she snapped.   
  
"Hey, I don't care if he's gay but I do think it's a choice."   
  
"Well it's not." She gave him an icy look, which was intended to end the conversation, but Sean would not give up without a fight.   
  
"Well, if he wasn't gay… would you rather go out with him than me?"   
  
Disbelievingly, she cocked her head a bit and looked at him. "You can't ask me that."   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Because… it's not fair. I like Marco for completely different reasons than I like you."   
  
"But do you like him more than me?" he inquired. Ellie was starting to get angry.   
  
"I already told you. I like him for who he is, and I like you for who you are. There are boundaries. There's no way I could even ever compare you two."   
  
"But…"   
  
"Sean!" she said, exasperated. She leaned in and kissed him, hard. When she broke away, she said, "I've never kissed Marco like that. Is that enough for you?"   
  
He grinned. "I guess so."   
  
"Good." She kissed him once more, and then they returned to dancing.   
  
-----   
  
"Well," Marco said, after they'd danced to a few more songs.   
  
"Well what?" Dylan asked, looking down at him curiously.   
  
"Well isn't it time that you take my hand, lead me upstairs, and then I'll find out what comes after 'and then'?" Marco said, winking suggestively. Truth was, he was almost - if not more - nervous than he was excited.   
  
"Oh right. We could arrange that." Grinning, Dylan laced his fingers with his boyfriend's, and guided him through the crowds until they reached the stairs. On the way, they passed Spinner, who was chugging cheddar spray while Jimmy and Craig laughed, and Paige, looking extremely bored.   
  
"I don't think this is the kind of party Paige had in mind," Marco yelled over the music.   
  
"Yeah, I doubt it."   
  
Finally, they reached Dylan's room, and they were both disgusted to find his friend Brad was in there with some girl. "Brad?" Dylan said in a demanding tone. He quickly pulled out of the lip-lock to look at his friend.   
  
"Dylan, hey. Um… this is Sarah," he motioned to the girl.   
  
"It's Kara, jerk!" the girl said, pushing Brad away and stomping out of the room.   
  
He cursed slightly and got up to follow her, then looked at the guys again. "Oh, right. Sorry, man. I didn't think you were gonna need… but obviously…" He glanced at Marco and then back to Dylan and grinned. "Go get some." He left the room, shouting, "Kara! Kara, wait!"   
  
"Sorry about that," Dylan apologized, but Brad occupying the room wasn't what was on the Italian boy's mind.   
  
He put his hand on Dylan's face and kissed him, and the blonde was quick to kiss back. They slowly moved to Dylan's bed, all the while making out. They sat on the bed together, and then Dylan laid back and pulled Marco with him.   
  
After a few moments, Dylan put his hand up Marco's shirt and pulled it off. Marco started to worry even more, but the feel of Dylan's lips on his neck calmed him a bit. He rubbed Marco's stomach with his hands as he continued to kiss his neck. He moved his lips lower, so he was planting kisses along Marco's chest.   
  
Finally, he dove back up and kissed Marco on the lips again, and Marco took the chance to start unbuttoning Dylan's own shirt. Fingers trembling slightly, he undid them one by one until finally the shirt was hanging open and Dylan slid it off.   
  
Dylan went back to kissing Marco's neck, and Marco ran his hands over Dylan's back and along the sides of his torso. He completely froze, though, when he felt Dylan's hands graze the top of his pants.   
  
"Dylan, wait," he pleaded, grabbing his boyfriend's hands with his own.   
  
Dylan's concentration broke and he looked down, slightly concernedly, to Marco. "What?"   
  
"I… I can't."   
  
"You can't?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"No," he responded quietly. "I can't."   
  
"You can't," Dylan said, once more, "or you won't?"   
  
"What are you talking about?" Marco said, looking confused.   
  
"Why _can't_ you?" He put sarcastic emphasis on the word can't, and Marco stared at him, feeling quite dumbfounded.   
  
"I'm… I'm n-not ready," he stuttered.   
  
"Of course not," Dylan sighed, and he started to put his shirt back on. "What aren't you ready for? You're out of the closet. Everyone knows."   
  
"That's all I am to you, isn't it?" Marco challenged him, feeling extremely irritated. Dylan usually wasn't so blunt, but maybe the alcohol brought that out in him.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Gay," he said. "All I am to you is the gay kid who is now officially out of the closet, so that means I'm available. And just because I'm gay, you think I'd have sex with you."   
  
"I didn't…" Dylan started to say, but Marco in his anger, cut him off.   
  
"Well go find some other gay kid, then. We're done." He blew past Dylan, slammed the door, and charged out of the house. He didn't stop until he jolted into his own home, past his family members without saying anything, and in his room. By then, tears were streaming down his face. He could only think of one sensible thing to do at that moment.   
  
He dug into his backpack, brought out his journal, and began to write.   
  
**[Journal entry 11]   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
I broke up with Dylan. I can't even believe I did it. But… if the only reason he was with me is for sex, then I don't wanna be with him anyway. We had a good time at the party, I guess. He's a great dancer. But we went up to his room, started making out, and then we went a little further.   
  
I told him I wasn't ready and he basically told me I was a loser. I guess alcohol really does bring out the worst in people.   
  
I really wish this night had never happened. All I want to do is stay in bed for the rest of my life. I don't even want to have to look at him anytime soon.   
  
This sucks big time.   
  
**[/Journal]**   
  
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Well this chapter took forever. I meant to have this finished like three days ago, but I kept putting it off. Sorry. I hope it's okay. I'm not exactly jumping with joy at this chapter. I dunno, you tell me what you think. By the way, this chapter is the longest one yet.   
  
thanks guys. :D 


	15. The Single Life

**Title:** Something New  
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language  
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom  
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.  
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't even live in the great country of Canada.  
  
**Author's Note:** Can you guys picture Dylan crying? The first scene I was slightly doubtful about, because Dylan just does not seem like a crier to me. However, I thought if he was truly in love with a guy, and his heart was broken, he'd shed a few tears, right? Yeah so there's my dilemma of the week.  
  
ANYWAY thanks everyone for the reviews! They were all wonderful! :-) However I was told it was starting to not sound like Ellie, and so if anyone wants to offer any advice on how to sound more like her, that'd be great.  
  
So I've decided to kill off Marco in this chapter. What can I say; he was getting on my nerves. It'll be a brutal death, don't worry. Haaa just kidding. No deaths… yet. :O Also, I'd like to remind people that the only Italian I know comes from the translator at dictionarydotcom, so if I did something wrong or whatever, feel free to tell me.  
  
Okay, I'm sorry. I know this is turning into a long author's note, but oh well. I have a plotline with Craig and Marco coming up. I don't know, you guys might think it's stupid. You'll probably think it's unrealistic. But I have that in there for a reason, which you'll find out next chapter (if you haven't already guessed it) so don't flame just 'cause that, alright? Thanks.  
  
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A few hours later, Paige was exhausted from dancing, and she had a headache from the music. So she gathered up Spinner, Craig, and Jimmy and told them to end the party - and _fast_. The guys automatically started sending everyone home, and though it took a while because of some resisters, eventually everyone was gone.  
  
Not long after that, the three boys departed and Paige dragged her feet upstairs, towards her brother's room. She stopped outside the door, remembering that she hadn't seen Marco leave, and that the two could be doing something she shouldn't walk in on right there. She knocked twice, quietly but loud enough to be heard, but received no reply.  
  
"Dyl?" she asked, pressing her ear to the wooden door.  
  
"Go away Paige," he said in an oddly strained voice.  
  
After several years of living with her old brother, she knew this was an invite into his room. She opened the door slowly, and saw Dylan was sitting on his bed and staring off into space. She nearly gasped at the sight of him; his eyes were bloodshot and he had a faraway look on his face. This wasn't the Dylan she knew. At first she assumed the redness in his eyes was from alcohol, but once she drew nearer she could see his face was wet.  
  
"Dylan… you're crying," she said, blatantly stating the obvious. He sniffed but didn't say anything. "What's wrong?" she went on, concerned. "Did something happen?"  
  
Still, he said nothing.  
  
"Look, Dyl, whatever it is, you can tell me," she pried, sitting on the bed next to him.  
  
"I screwed things up, Paige," he said softly, putting his head in his hands and letting out a slight sob. This kind of scared Paige; she hadn't seen her brother cry since he'd come out however many years ago, and even then it wasn't like this.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I… I was an idiot. A jerk." He sniffed quietly, and she waited for him to continue. "He broke up with me."  
  
"_What?!_" she said loudly, jumping up into a standing position. Her eyes were as round as nickels. "He… what… why?"  
  
"It was my fault. I pressured him… he wasn't ready… I wasn't listening to him…" He looked up at his little sister, agony and pain completely visible in his face. "I've never felt like this about anyone before. I've never gotten so torn up about a guy. I don't know why I'm like this…"  
  
"I do," she replied truthfully.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you love him, Dyl."  
  
He sniffed one more time, and looked up at her. "You're right. I do love him."  
  
She'd known this for a long time; the way his face lit up whenever he saw Marco, the way he talked about him so excitedly, the way he'd come to her room just to tell her something cute Marco had done that day - all the signs pointed to love. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and told him, "Then you've got to get him back."  
  
"I can't. He hates me, Paige. He thinks I'm the biggest jerk in the world." He wiped the tears off of his face as a new batch filled his eyes.  
  
"You've got to apologize. I'm _almost_ positive he's in love with you too. Just say some cheesy line, put on your best pouty face, and then go on to making out with him." She giggled, and Dylan even managed to laugh a little bit.  
  
"Thanks Paige," he said with a sad smiling, hugging his little sister.  
  
"Anytime. Now, you should get some sleep. I'm gonna go to bed too. Goodnight."  
  
"Night." She turned off the light as she left the room, and he rubbed his eyes and lay back on his bed. He automatically thought of Marco, and he began planning his apology.  
  
-----  
  
"You did _what_?" Ellie said into the telephone, hardly able to believe her ears.  
  
"I broke up with Dylan," Marco repeated, his voice coming out hollow and lifeless. After he had finished writing his latest journal entry the previous night, he had gotten into bed fully clothed and stared at the ceiling for hours. It wasn't until the sun started to rise before he fell into an uneasy sleep, and he'd woken up not much later. His eyes were red and puffy, but he didn't particularly care about his appearance just then. He had called Ellie right after he woke up.  
  
"But… why?" she said softly, concerned for her best friend.  
  
"It's a long story," he said, not really wanting to relive it.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Sighing, he began telling her the story - the whole story. How they got to the dance, how Dylan started drinking, how they danced together and then walked upstairs… His voice began to get shaky. "W-we went to his room and…"  
  
"Oh my God," Ellie interrupted him. "You… you guys… had sex?!"  
  
"No, Ellie!" he said quickly, nose scrunching up slightly. "That's… that's the problem. He wanted to… I didn't want to… The only reason he was with me is 'cause I'm gay." Tears, once again, threatened to spill over. A few escaped ones strolled down his cheek. "He… he was going to have sex with me and leave me for the next kid that came out of the closet."  
  
There was a silence on the other line. Then, "You don't really believe that, do you?"  
  
"What?" Marco said, a bit confused and irritated. "I was _there_, El. I know what happened." He was actually sounding a little on the defensive side.  
  
"I know you were. But you said it yourself, he was drunk," she pointed out. "Sometimes you have to forgive people when they've been drinking. They always regret things afterward."  
  
"You're supposed to be on my side," he said weakly.  
  
"I am on your side, Marco."  
  
"It doesn't feel like it. Look, I have to go."  
  
"Marco…"  
  
"Bye." He hung up the phone, feeling worse than when he picked it up. Should he forgive Dylan? He just wasn't sure. The phone suddenly began ringing again, scaring him out of his wits, which caused him to jump at least a foot into the air.  
  
It rang once, twice, three times before his mother picked it downstairs. "Marco!" she called, and he appeared at the top of the stairs. "Phone for you," she told her son. His father, who was also in the room, grumbled something under his breath.  
  
"Who is it?" he asked.  
  
"Dylan," she replied, smiling and holding the phone out.  
  
His fake smile melted. "Tell him I'm too busy to talk." Both his mother and his father looked at him, eyebrows raised. His dad, however, has a small smirk on his face.  
  
His mom brought the phone back up to her ear. "Dylan? I'm sorry; Marco can't come to the phone right now. Sure I will. Okay. You too. Goodbye." She hung up the phone, and gave her son a strange look. "Dylan says he needs to see you and talk to you about something. He says he'll be at the Dot at three if you want to meet him there."  
  
"Okay," he said, somewhat gloomily.  
  
"Are you going to go?"  
  
"No," he said shortly. Of course he wasn't. Things were over between the two. And that's the way Marco wanted it… right?  
  
"Why not?" his mother pressed, and he was starting to get annoyed.  
  
"I just don't want to!"  
  
"You and…" his father said slowly, almost scared to say the blonde boy's name. "You and _Dylan_… you two no longer seeing each other?" His smirk was widening slightly.  
  
"No, Pa, we're not."  
  
"But why, _miele_?" his ma asked, concern in her voice. He appreciated it, but that didn't mean he wanted it. He really just wished they'd leave him alone and let him go back to mourning in his darkened bedroom.  
  
"Just because, Ma. I don't like him any more."  
  
"_Quello è il mio ragazzo!_" his dad said excitedly, patting him hard on the back. "You don't need no fruity boy! You settle down with a nice girl, no more thinking of boys. We get you a girlfriend! Carlos will help!" He was actually smiling now.  
  
"Pa!" he interrupted his dad's mindless babble. "No! No. I'm still gay. I still like boys. Just not Dylan." The smile slid right off his father's face, and he began muttering Italian phrases under his breath gruffly.  
  
"I'm going back upstairs, okay, Ma?"  
  
"Sure. But Marco?"  
  
"Yes?" He turned back around, somewhat startled to see she was looking at him very seriously.  
  
"Maybe you should give Dylan another chance."  
  
"I'll think about it," he lied, trudging back up the steps. When he got to his room, he closed the door and sat on his bed. He really couldn't think of anything to do but feel sorry for himself, and he was beginning to get bored of that. He went over to his computer and turned it on, and then went on to logging on his email. _2 New Emails!_ the screen told him.  
  
The first one was a chain letter from Heather Sinclaire that told him if he didn't forward it on to thirty people, he would never be kissed. Snorting, he deleted it and moved on to the second one. His heart started thumping when he saw whom it was from. Dylan.  
  
_Marco,  
  
I know you're mad at me, and you deserve to be. But I am really, really sorry. Please, just listen to me. I wasn't thinking. If I could take it back, I'd do it in a heartbeat.  
  
Just talk to me, please. Email me back or call or, if you want, meet me at the Dot at three. It's important. Please.  
  
--Dylan_  
  
He read the email two more times, frowning a little more with every line. Now he really was in a conflict… what should he do? A part of him was still burning with anger. He didn't want to see Dylan. So he moved the curser up and deleted it.  
  
Feeling even sulkier than before, he turned off the computer and sat on his bed. He stayed there, for the rest of the day, even through dinnertime. He eventually turned on his stomach, pressing his face into his pillow, and fell asleep, dreading the next day - when he would return to school.  
  
**[Journal entry 12]  
Marco del Rossi**  
  
It's day number two after me and Dylan broke up. I really hate this feeling - if you call it that. It's more like not having any feeling at all. Like my whole body is completely numb.  
  
He called today, and sent me an email. He tried to apologize, but I guess I wouldn't let him. I deserve to be angry, right? This is HIS fault, not mine, right? I don't know.  
  
He wanted to meet me at the Dot. I should've gone. I wanted to go. I didn't go.  
  
Some part of me can't forgive him. I want to forgive him, but I just can't. What am I supposed to do? I don't know. I'm going to lay down again. I haven't eaten since last night before the party, but I'm not hungry. I didn't sleep well either, but I'm not tired. Like I said, I just feel sort of numb.  
  
Until next time.  
  
**[/Journal]**

-----  
  
Dylan sucked the last of the coke from his cup out, and then went up to the counter to order another one. Spinner, who had been promoted to cashier recently, looked at him weirdly.  
  
"Gimme another one, Spin," Dylan said dully. He looked at the clock; it was 3:27. He knew by now that Marco wasn't going to show, but he wasn't ready to leave. He had hoped that either his email or phone call would sway Marco's decision to come, but obviously it hadn't.  
  
"You've already had six," Spinner told him, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah," he replied absentmindedly. "Why don't you give me some fries too?"  
  
"He's not coming," Spinner said flatly.  
  
Cheeks reddening slightly, Dylan looked down. It really was time to face the truth. "Yeah. You're right. I've got hockey at four anyway…" He put the empty coke glass down and started towards the door, but stopped suddenly. "Um, if Marco does show up…"  
  
"He's not going to, Dylan."  
  
"Right. Bye."  
  
He left the restaurant, feeling worse than before, and climbed into his car. He drove to the hockey arena with his gear, and walked into the locker room. A bunch of guys from the team were already in there, getting dressed and talking. Some of the guys hurriedly threw towels around their waists, not wanting to be checked out or anything by the team's fag, but instead of saying anything, he just went over to his friends.  
  
Normally he would have cheerfully greeted them, but today he just put his bag down and started to get dressed. Right away his friends noticed he wasn't his usual self.  
  
They all gave him odd looks, which he just shrugged off. Finally, Jeff asked him concernedly, "Dyl, buddy, what's up?"  
  
"Nothing," Dylan replied monotonously.  
  
"C'mon, man, what's going on?" he pressed, but Dylan just sadly shook his head.  
  
"Is it your mom?" Scott asked. "Paige? Marco?" He gave a little involuntary shake when he heard Marco's name, feeling like his heart was breaking all over again. The other guys finally understood, and they all sympathetically looked at him.  
  
"What happened?" Jeff asked.  
  
"He broke up with me," he nearly whispered, continuing to put on his hockey gear as though it was just a nonchalant matter for him. He hated being stared at like that, so he dipped his head down as he pretended to tie his skates. They were already tied.  
  
"That sucks," Brad said.  
  
"Sorry, dude," Michael added.  
  
Scott, however, wanted to cheer his friend up a little more. "Hey, no big loss right? Other fish in the sea. He was just a little Grade Ten. He's a loser." Something about the way he said that pissed Dylan off completely. He stoop quickly, grabbed Scott's shirt, and shoved him into the lockers.  
  
"He is _not_ a loser!" With that, he stormed out of the locker rooms, leaving his shocked teammates behind, staring after.  
  
That practice was the worst one Dylan had in a long time. It seemed everything he did was wrong. It didn't help that he couldn't take his mind off of Marco. His coach was yelling at him for everything it seemed. He finished last in his laps. Before long, his coach had had enough.  
  
"Michalchuk!" he yelled, throwing his clipboard onto the ice hard. "Come here!" Head drooping slightly, Dylan skated over to him. "You've missed every open goal! You're nearly tripping over your own two skates! What is going on with you?!"  
  
"I… I don't know, Coach. I'm sorry," he offered weakly.  
  
"You're _sorry_? Michalchuk, we play against Sechrest in two days! I'm depending on you!" he shouted, waving his hands wildly above his head.  
  
"I know, Coach. I'm just… sort of out of it today. I'll be ready for the game, I promise," he said, not knowing if he would be able to keep his promise.  
  
"You better. I would hate to have to bench you, especially with all of these college scouts buzzing around. Keep playing like normal, kid, and you'll be going places. Bigger, better places. Understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. Now, why don't you take the rest of practice off to go clear your head?"  
  
Appreciative, Dylan gathered his stuff and drove home. He felt like he was in somewhat of a trance. Finally, he got to his house, where he walked in and headed up to his room, having nothing better to do.  
  
"Dyl?" Paige asked, coming out of her room with a confused look on her face. "What are you doing home so early? I didn't think you're practice ended for another forty-five minutes."  
  
"Yeah… Coach let me out early 'cause I wasn't feeling too good," he replied truthfully, frowning.  
  
Paige, also frowning, gave her older brother a small hug. "He didn't show up, huh?"  
  
"Nope. I was there for at least an hour too."  
  
"Don't worry, he'll soon be crawling back to you," she said with a smile.  
  
"No," he said dejectedly. "I may be hopeful but I'm not stupid. Marco's definitely over me. I'm just gonna go lay down. Maybe finish up some of my homework."  
  
"Why don't you try calling home one last time?" Paige advised him.  
  
Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair. "I… I might. I don't think he wants to talk to me, though."  
  
"Just try." He nodded and said he would, and then went into his room. Picking up the phone, he punched in Marco's number and then collapsed on his bed as it rang. On the second ring, someone picked up.  
  
"Hello?" Great. Just _great_. It was Carlos. "Is Marco there?" Dylan said, trying to disguise his voice.  
  
"Who's this?" Carlos asked him suspiciously from the other line.  
  
"Dylan."  
  
The oldest Del Rossi sibling let out a small snort. He'd overheard his little brother telling his parents he was no longer talking to Michalchuk, which was absolutely perfect with him. He'd even decided he'd try to help Marco come back to his senses a date a girl. Marco didn't know that yet, though. "Sorry, Fag-boy, he doesn't want to talk to you."  
  
"Please, Carlos," Dylan said wearily, disgusted to hear himself pleading. "Just let me talk to him for a minute."  
  
"Hey, queer, what part of no don't you understand? Don't you have a little boy to be blowing?" His voice was sharp and vindictive.  
  
He hung up the phone violently, and pressed his face into his pillow. Why, why did he have to drink? Why did he have to be such an idiot? He couldn't ever imagine himself being happier than when he was with Marco, but now he'd blown it. All for a little bit of alcohol.  
  
He really didn't want to go to school the next day.  
  
-----  
  
Marco purposely took his time getting ready the next morning. He slowly showered, slowly got dressed, and slowly ate his breakfast. He knew he would arrive there with just a minute or less to spare before the bell would ring. That was ideal - he would have no time to run into anyone, namely Dylan, and even if he did, he had a perfectly liable excuse to get away.  
  
His mom drove him to school, and he raced in the building, through the thinning crowds, and straight to class. His first class of the day was English, with Ms. Kwan. He remembered her mentioning them starting a new project that day, but he could only remember vague details.  
  
Right when he sat in his seat, the bell rang and Ms. Kwan began teaching. "Today, as I've mentioned, everyone is going to partner off. With their partner, they will draw a type of play from the basket. Then, come up to my desk and get the play that is intended for you. In one week, next Monday, everyone will perform their short plays. So please, now, everyone partner up."  
  
Marco remained seated, but Craig sauntered up to him. "Hey, Marco, wanna be my partner?"  
  
"Sure," Marco said, shrugging slightly. He watched everyone else pair off: Paige with Spinner, Hazel with Jimmy, Ellie with Ash, and so on. The basket was passed around, until it stopped in front of Craig and Marco. Closing his eyes, Craig blindly felt around through the scraps of paper and pulled one out. He stared at it for a few seconds, silent.  
  
"Well?" the Italian boy asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, we got a romance."  
  
Shaking his head, Marco stared at him. "What?"  
  
"I said we got a ro -"  
  
"I heard you. It's just…" He felt ridiculous. How had he ended up with a romance, with one of his good guy friends? Craig wasn't looking as uncomfortable as he should have.  
  
"Ms. Kwan, can we switch?" someone called in a whiny voice from the back of the room. "I got a tragedy."  
  
"No, I'm afraid there will be no switching."  
  
"But… Craig and I got a romance…" Marco said, a little baffled.  
  
"I'm sorry, Marco. No switching."  
  
Craig, in the meanwhile, went up to the desk and Ms. Kwan handed him a play. He absentmindedly walked back to where Marco was sitting wordlessly, skimming the play with his eyes. "This is going to be hard to memorize." Marco couldn't believe he was more freaked out about this than Craig was.  
  
"So… you're okay with this?" he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"With what?"  
  
"A romance!" he impatiently replied. "You know, I'm gay… you're straight…"  
  
"So what? Better you than with Spinner." He then grew a little quieter as he flipped to the back page. "There's a kiss."  
  
"R-really?" He'd only kissed one guy before… and now he was expected to kiss _Craig_, in front of his whole class? No way. No possible way.  
  
He went straight to Kwan's desk, put his hands on the desk and looked her in the eye, as if to tell her he meant business. "Ms. Kwan, there's no way Craig and I can perform this. There's a kiss in it!"  
  
She looked at him seriously. "Marco, acting is not only reading lines. It's often just giving the appearance of something." Understanding a little bit, he went back to where Craig was sitting.  
  
"You know," Craig announced, "I think this is going to be fun." Marco raised an eyebrow. "No, seriously. I mean, sure one of us will have to play a girl," he threw a meaningful look at the other boy, "but there are some pretty good one-liners in here. It's kind of a romantic comedy."  
  
"I'm not playing the girl," Marco stated.  
  
"But you're shorter."  
  
"I'm not playing the girl," he insisted.  
  
"Your hair is shorter, too!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"So it'd be easier for you to wear a wig."  
  
"Craig, I get made fun of enough for being gay. Do you really think I want to prance around in a dress in front of everyone?"  
  
"How about just a skirt then?"  
  
"_Craig!_" Marco said, looking at him with wide eyes.  
  
Sighing, the curly-haired boy backed down a bit. "All right, all right. I'll play the girl."  
  
"Thanks," Marco said with a smile. Now knowing that acting the kiss was going to be easier than actually doing it, and that he got to play the male, he felt a bit better about the play. He actually felt a little bit better in general.  
  
"So, want to rehearse at my house tonight?" Craig asked.  
  
"Well, actually, my parents and Carlos are going to be gone to Carlos' soccer game, so you can come over to my house. We'll have the whole house to ourselves. We can order pizza or whatever," Marco suggested.  
  
"Great. See you tonight, then," he said as the bell rang.  
  
Marco gathered his books and left the classroom. Right when he did though, his body connected with another, and both students were sent crashing to the ground. He started to apologize, until he looked up. He let his sentence drag out with a slight intake of breath.  
  
"Marco…" the other boy said, looking at him intimately.  
  
"Dylan."  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
**Italian translations:**  
_Miele - honey  
Quello è il mio ragazzo! - That's my boy!_  
  
Like I said, I'm not sure if those are right. I hope so.  
  
I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. It's definitely not one of my best, is it? You all probably think I'm stupid now, for the Craig and Marco scene. I'm sure at a normal school, the teacher wouldn't let two guys perform a romance together, but this was just an idea I had. Sorry if you hate it (or me).  
  
Please review. I don't care what you say, just review. :D


	16. Making This Work

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't even live in the great country of Canada.   
  
**Author's Note:** I'm really glad you guys liked the last chapter, and liked the scene with Craig. That one's just fun for me, to stay away from all the angst. Also, I hate to admit it, but I am not Canadian. Sometimes I'm not with it on the way they phrase things. I believe they say "university" instead of how we say "college" but if not, that's what I meant. Lmao.   
  
Also, the play that Marco and Craig perform is not real. At all. You'll be able to tell, too. So just pretend it's a wonderful piece of art, and not a piece of crap that I made up, okay? Why thank you.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
  
"Marco," Dylan repeated, looking a little bit shocked. All day long he'd been rehearsing his apology to Marco. It was going to be sweet and sincere the entire time… it definitely didn't start with him running him over in the hallway.   
  
"I've got to…" Marco started to say, jabbing his thumb at a classroom, but Dylan quickly cut him off.   
  
"Can I talk to you?" he asked hopefully.   
  
Marco was thinking a million different thoughts. Yes? No? Should he go? Was he still mad? _Why_ did Dylan have to be so cute?! "I've got to go to class," he finished. If Dylan really wanted to talk to him, he was going to have to beg.   
  
"Please, Marco."   
  
"I don't want to be late," he said, a bit standoffishly.   
  
"I really need to -"   
  
"Lunchtime, okay?" It was Marco's turn to interrupt. "I'll see you at lunch." Considering it was obviously his only option, Dylan nodded his head. He was going to talk to Marco, even if it meant tying him to a chair and forcing him to listen. He needed to get him back.   
  
"Sorry about running into you," Dylan said, for good measures.   
  
"It's okay."   
  
Clearly Marco was still mad. So Dylan only nodded once more, fighting a particularly strong urge to kiss him goodbye, and started to walk down the hallway. The younger boy too went on to his next class, but his brain was buzzing. He had so much on his mind. Unfortunately, math was next, so he was forced to push all non-educational thoughts out of his brain and concentrate solely on his schoolwork. That definitely was a hard task.   
  
The class began with Armstrong handing out a long pop quiz, and ended with him assigning a large amount of homework for that night. Marco was fairly sure he aced the quiz, however, and the homework was no problem. So he was feeling good as he and Ellie discussed answers back-and-forth on their way to the cafeteria for lunch.   
  
"What about number seventeen?" Ellie asked, looking a bit distressed. "The multiple choice one."   
  
"I said C," Marco replied, shrugging slightly.   
  
She relaxed a little. "Good, so did I."   
  
Right before they reached the doors, Marco stopped suddenly. "What?" Ellie said curiously, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"I forgot," he mumbled. "I'm supposed to talk to Dylan." Ellie gave him a look, which he quickly shielded by looking at his tennis shoes. "Look, El, I want to forgive him. I… I always have an awesome time with him. But I'm just… I'm so _afraid_." He looked a little ashamed by admitting that.   
  
"Then just tell him that," Ellie responded, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him through the doors.   
  
Even though Marco wasn't that hungry, he went through the lunch line with Ellie and bought a hotdog. When they emerged from the line, he immediately saw Dylan's golden curls. He was looking at him with such intensity that almost wished he would look away. For that moment, they were the only two people in that cafeteria.   
  
The blonde stood, and beckoned him over with a somewhat pleading look. Marco gave his hotdog to Spinner, who gobbled it down in about two seconds, said goodbye to Ellie, and then walked over to Dylan.   
  
"Hey," Dylan said, somewhat tensely.   
  
"Hey," he returned. Dylan opened his mouth to say something else, but right then Ty walked by and clamped his arm around Dylan's shoulders.   
  
"Hey Dylan, Marco." Ty hadn't been at hockey practice the day before, so he obviously still believed they were a couple. "So, did you guys have a good time at the party?" Marco glared at him slightly, and Dylan tried to tell him to shut up, but he wasn't stopping. "I heard you guys reserved a private room." He grinned and gave Dylan's shoulders a slight squeeze. "Tell me, Marco, what was it like being _deflowered_ by Dyllie-boy?"   
  
Marco gaped at him, and then at Dylan angrily. "So that's… you told them you… you said we… I don't believe you! This is how you're trying to get me back?! What, did you plan this or something?"   
  
"Marco, I didn't…!" he tried to explain, but Marco, shaking his head vigorously, cut him off.   
  
"Stop. Just stop, okay? I've had enough of you." He turned around and blew out of the cafeteria, and Dylan stood dumbfounded. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen! He was supposed to be charming and witty and irresistible… Marco was supposed to crawl back into his arms…   
  
"Can't you just shut your mouth for once in your life?!" he yelled to Ty, pushing him back as he raced after Marco.   
  
Marco was wandering around aimlessly, wanting to cry or scream or yell or do _something_. Instead, he slid down to the floor in front of his locker, and pulled his knees to his chest.   
  
The older boy was running through the halls, trying to find him, and it took a few minutes before he saw Marco with his head buried in his knees. "Marco!"   
  
"Go away, Dylan," he commanded emotionlessly, not looking up.   
  
"Wait, I really have to talk. Just listen, okay? I did _not_ tell any of my friends that we had sex." The Italian boy lifted his head slightly, so his eyes were peeking out and he could see Dylan. "I didn't say anything. If I could take that night back, I would. I really would. I am definitely not only with you for sex. I love being with you, Marco. I love the way you laugh, the way you run your hands through your hair when you're nervous, the way you mutter Italian phrases under your breath without even noticing…"   
  
He nearly smiled a bit at the cheesiness of his apology. He didn't know Dylan knew so much about his stupid habits.   
  
"I wouldn't rather be with anyone else in the world. I don't care if you're never ready to have sex. This relationship means so much more to me. And I know, I acted like an ass. I shouldn't have drank. But I've learned from my mistakes, and it won't happen again." He took a deep breath, and stepped a little closer. "I really want us to work."   
  
"I do too, Dylan," he said softly. "And no, I'm not ready to have sex. But that doesn't mean I won't ever be ready. And when that time comes, there's only one person I want it to be with." He paused. "You're going to university next year."   
  
"Yeah, but that's not 'til next year. Let's just take every day as it comes, okay?" He offered his hand out to Marco, who appreciatively took it and pulled himself up to full height.   
  
"You give the best cheesy speeches," Marco grinned, looking up at Dylan.   
  
"Well, I try," the older boy chuckled. He pulled his once-again boyfriend into his arms, nuzzled his face into the silky black hair on his head, and said into his ear, "God I missed you."   
  
"I missed you too." Dylan brought his lips down to the shorter boy's, and the two shared a sweet kiss. It continued on for a few moments until a voice disrupted them.   
  
"Boys!" The boys quickly broke apart to see Mr. Raditch not but a few feet away from them, crossing his arms. He looked a little embarrassed to find the two too, but he tried his best to not show it. Marco's cheeks turned a deep red. "PDA is not permitted in this school, as stated in the Degrassi Code of Conduct. _All_ students must follow the rules; it doesn't just apply to…" He fumbled over his words. "Heterosexual students," he finally finished.   
  
"Sorry Mr. Raditch," Dylan said, with an earnest smile.   
  
Mr. Raditch nodded in return. "You two should return to the cafeteria until the lunch period is over." They agreed, and started towards the cafeteria. When they were out of Raditch's sight, Dylan slipped his hand into Marco's, feeling better than he had in a long time.   
  
"Do you want to go to the Dot and grab something to eat after school?" Dylan asked, looking at him somewhat seriously. "I noticed neither of us ate lunch today." He rubbed his stomach. "And I don't know about you, but I'm hungry!"   
  
He hesitated for a moment. "Well… Craig's coming over around five to do our English project, but we could go before then."   
  
"That's perfect," Dylan nodded. "I have practice at five, so I'll drove you home around 4:45, okay?"   
  
"That'd be great. I'm glad we… figured this out," he said with a smile as the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.   
  
"Me too. See you after school." He gave Marco's hand another little squeeze, and the two went their separate ways.   
  
The rest of the day surprisingly flew by. It didn't seem but twenty minutes later before the final bell of the day rang, and kids stampeded through their hallways to get to their lockers. Marco happened to be one of those kids; he stopped at Craig's locker to tell him when to come over, went to his own and shoved everything he had inside, and then raced upstairs to Dylan's locker.   
  
Paige stopped him, however, on the way. "Marco!" she said. "I'm so glad you forgave Dylan."   
  
"Yeah," Marco replied, smiling a little.   
  
"You guys really do make the cutest couple."   
  
"Thanks." He smiled more.   
  
"Well, I just wanted to tell you, so you know, Dylan's birthday is a week from tomorrow."   
  
"Really?" Marco asked, looking a little bit taken aback. His eighteenth birthday was coming up rather quickly, which he hadn't known. Seeing as Marco would still be fifteen for another month or so, eighteen seemed so… old.   
  
"Yeah. We're thinking about throwing him a surprise birthday party, so don't mention it to him," she instructed.   
  
"Okay."   
  
Paige hurried after Ash and Hazel, and Marco continued his trip upstairs. He saw Dylan, who beamed at him and immediately came over.   
  
"Ready?"   
  
"Yeah," he said, nodding. The two left Degrassi Community School and piled into Dylan's car. On the way to the Dot, Dylan started subconsciously humming a tune. Marco recognized the music, but he couldn't quite place what it was. After a few seconds, it clicked. "Millicent's Goodbye," he said automatically, snapping his fingers with an accomplished look on his face.   
  
"What?" Dylan said, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"Millicent's Goodbye. You were humming it… right?"   
  
Dylan looked surprised. "Yeah, you've heard of it?" Neither boy knew any others who had ever heard of the song before.   
  
"Yeah. My Ma always sang it to me - well, she sang the Italian version - before bed every night when I was little. But, I haven't heard that for six, seven years."   
  
"My mom sang it to me too," he grinned. "You're the first person I've ever met who knows that. God, I used to love that song."   
  
"Me too." Marco felt more relaxed than he had in days. He knew that he was supposed to be there - next to Dylan. It felt natural. It felt _good_.   
  
Finally, they reached the diner and went in. "What do you want?" Dylan asked him, like a true gentleman. "My treat."   
  
"Uhh, how about the Kids' Meal cheeseburger, pickle only and a Coke?" Marco asked.   
  
"Kids' Meal?" the taller boy repeated, smirking slightly.   
  
He shrugged. "I like the toys."   
  
Dylan laughed, and then turned to the cashier. "Two Kids' Meal cheeseburgers, one with pickle only, the other loaded, and two medium cokes, please." The cashier rang the meal up, Dylan paid, and finally he gave the boys their meals and they sat down.   
  
Dylan started to unwrap the black plastic that his toy was in, but Marco grabbed his arm. "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" he scolded jokingly. "Eat first, play later." Once more, Dylan chuckled and the two ate their meals. While they were eating, they bantered back and forth about movies, television, cute guys, and sports. Marco tried to stray away from that subject whenever it came up. He didn't want Dylan to find out he was a total loser who didn't know much about sports.   
  
"So," Dylan said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Tell me something about you that I don't already know."   
  
"Hmm," Marco said, and leaned back in thought. "Well, in Grade Nine, I won tickets to a Leafs game for winning a break dancing contest."   
  
"Really?" Dylan looked genuinely shocked. "You break dance?" Marco nodded. "Well, you know, I thought… the way we danced at the party… you didn't seem very…" He couldn't think of a nice way to put it, so he just let his sentence end there.   
  
"You mean you thought I sucked?" Marco laughed. "I was nervous. I'm actually a pretty good dancer, if I do say so myself."   
  
"You never cease to amaze me." He winked before downing the rest of his coke. "You done?" That received a nod from the other boy, so he threw their trash away and they started to leave.   
  
"Can we open the toys _now_, Mom?" Dylan kidded, and Marco said yes. They tore open their toys, stopped for a few seconds, and then burst into laughter at the irony of them.   
  
They got back into Dylan's car, still roaring with laughter. Marco chucked his new plastic whale, as well as Dylan's plastic bee, into the backseat and that's where they stayed.   
  
Dylan drove Marco home, but when they reached Marco's street he slowed a little bit. Finally, he stopped right before the driveway. Dylan looked at his boyfriend, took a deep breath, and then said, "I know I've already said it, but I am so glad you forgave me."   
  
"Me too," Marco agreed honestly. They smiled at each other for a few seconds, and then leaned in and kissed. It was a short one, however, because Craig was going to arrive any minute now.   
  
"See you tomorrow," they both said, and then Marco ran into his house. His parents were already gone. Good. He went upstairs towards his room, but all of a sudden Carlos came out of his own room. The sudden appearance scared Marco so badly that he jumped at least a foot back.   
  
"Fag," Carlos said immediately, without thinking.   
  
"Shut up, Carlos. Wait… why are you here? You have a soccer game! You, Ma, and Pa should be at your soccer game!"   
  
"It got cancelled. Bardell forfeited. Ma and Pa went to visit Aunt Rosetta," Carlos explained. "Why? Were you and your _boyfriend_ gonna come over and get it on?"   
  
"No. I have a friend coming over to do homework, though."   
  
"To do what? Did you say, Homo-work?" Carlos smirked.   
  
"You really need to get over that," Marco said, clenching his teeth a bit.   
  
"Whatever. Dude, all you need is a hot girlfriend. Then you'll see what you're missing." Just then, the doorbell rang, thankfully, and Marco raced down to answer. Craig was on the doorstep, holding a big bag of clothes in his hand, and his script in the other.   
  
"Hey Marco," he said, coming into the house. He then looked up and saw Marco's older brother at the top of the stairs. "Hey, Carlos." He'd met Carlos a couple times before, though he didn't know much about him.   
  
"Hey, Craig," Carlos returned.   
  
"We're going to my room," Marco said, eyeing his older brother. "Don't bother us. Go ahead and order pizza if you want." Craig followed Marco up the stairs, and into his room.   
  
"I brought some costumes," Craig announced, turning his bag over and dumping the contents on to the bed. "There was a really cheap wig for sale at this old store." He picked up a curly brunette wig and jammed it on over his head. "How do I look?" he asked, in a false high-pitched voice.   
  
"You look beautiful," Marco laughed.   
  
"I got you a suit and a tie," Craig went on. "And a nice black dress…" He stopped, shaking his head, as though he couldn't believe what he was saying. He then finished, "For me."   
  
"Don't worry, Craig," Marco grinned, clamping a hand on his friends' shoulder. "You'll make a lovely woman, I'm sure."   
  
Craig jokingly smacked his hand away. "Let's just get started. But I am _not_ wearing the dress until I absolutely have to." He did, however, straighten his wig with a wide grin. They both took our their scripts, and saw Craig had the first line. He crossed the room, like he was supposed to, and said in his best impression of a female's voice, "There isn't much time for us to meet."   
  
Marco looked down at his line, and said, "We have all the time in the world, Julia, my lady. No one knows."   
  
"No one knows?" Craig-as-Julia repeated, raising an eyebrow and puckering his lips slightly. "The whole town watches you, Gregory. Everyone knows."   
  
Marco burst out in laughter at that point. After a few seconds, Craig joined him. "C'mon," Craig complained, in between laughs, "we have to get this right. It's worth a lot of points."   
  
"I know. Sorry, _Julia_."   
  
"I still don't see why you can't be the woman."   
  
"You look more like a girl than I do," was Marco's rebuttal.   
  
"Are you kidding me? You own Capri's, Marco," he said accusingly, putting his hands on his hips in a mock pout.   
  
"Oh, you are not making fun of my Capri's!" he said, stabbing his finger into Craig's chest and acting like a tough guy. Laughing, Craig threw his hands up in defeat. They both laughed for a little bit longer.   
  
"Hey, Marco? Can I ask you a serious question?"   
  
"Sure."   
  
Craig put his hands up to his wig, and straightened it a bit. He turned to the mirror, frowning as he continued to run his hands through the fake hair. Finally, he turned back to his friend. "Do you think I would be better as a blonde?" Marco stared at him for a few seconds, and once again, the two doubled over in laughter.   
  
"You are _such_ a loser."   
  
"Let's just try to do this thing again, okay?" Craig grinned and then put his female tone back on. "There isn't much time for us to meet."   
  
"We have all the time in the world, Julia, my love…" They ended up starting over at least four times before they could successfully get through the play. Finally, the end was drawing near. The kiss was coming up, and Marco was nervous. They hadn't really discussed how they would perform the kiss.   
  
"I only fear that there isn't enough time," Marco-as-Gregory said. "Not enough time to devote my love to you."   
  
Craig looked up, and his eyes were shimming slightly with something - nervousness, discomfort; Marco couldn't tell. "For you, my love, there is all the time in the world." This was it. The kiss. Obviously neither were sure what to do. Finally, Craig put his hand on the back of Marco's neck and pulled him closer to him.   
  
Marco couldn't tell if he wanted to fake the kiss or not. They hesitated for a few seconds, before the two bravely connected their lips. Craig kissed much differently than Dylan did; Marco couldn't help but compare the two in his mind. Dylan was slow, sweet, savoring the kiss. Craig's was quicker, rough, moving his lips with the kiss. It didn't help that he enjoyed the kiss, Marco thought.. It was a short one, however, and the two pulled away.   
  
There was a silence, and Marco was afraid that their friendship was over with that kiss. Could Craig tell that he liked it? "That wasn't so hard," Craig said at last, but it was more like a question.   
  
"No," Marco agreed. There was a silence once more. That is, until Craig started laughing slightly. "What?" Marco said, amazed. Was he a sucky kisser? Was Craig laughing at his incapability?   
  
"Nothing. It's just… well, sad as it is, that was my first kiss since… that thing with Manny, you know?"   
  
"Really?" Marco asked.   
  
"Yeah." The brunette looked thoughtful.   
  
"Well, that was my first kiss since… this afternoon," he said, laughing slightly and hoping he wasn't revealing too much information.   
  
"Well…" Craig said slowly, looking unsure. He then grinned and asked, "Was I better?"   
  
"Better?" Marco repeated.   
  
"On a scale of one to ten -"   
  
"I'm not rating you, Craig!"   
  
"I say you were a… seven. There, rate me." Craig was grinning madly. Marco stubbornly refused, shaking his head vigorously. He was a little confused that the straight guy had given him a "seven" on kissing. He wasn't going to rate him, no matter what.   
  
"Seven?" Marco said. "Did you really just give me an seven?"   
  
"Well, I mean, if you were a girl, it wasn't that bad. You kind of froze up there," Craig said.   
  
"Have you ever…" Marco stopped. Was this too personal? He felt really awkward. "You know, ever… kissed a guy before?"   
  
"No," Craig said, shaking his head. "It wasn't that bad or anything. I mean, it's definitely not my thing - you know," he intimidated some rude groping motions with his hands, "but it wasn't horrible or anything."   
  
"Oh." Marco was quiet.   
  
"So… are you going to rate me or not?" Craig asked, a big smile tugging at his lips.   
  
"Fine. Um… four."   
  
"Four?!" the curly-haired boy exclaimed, looking at his friend incredulously. "How could you rate me a four? I am the master of kissing. I am a huge stud. I mean, I had two girlfriends at the same time. No way could a Four pull that off," he pointed out.   
  
"You're proud of that?" Marco asked, raising an eyebrow. "And relax, I was just kidding. I'd give you… an eight. And I can't believe I just rated you."   
  
Craig smirked. "So you liked it?"   
  
"I didn't say that. It was all right." He was lying, and they both knew it. But Craig didn't care - he had said he was a good kisser. Didn't matter if it was a guy or a girl… it was definitely a compliment.   
  
Craig didn't know it, but Marco was thinking about the kiss too. _Okay, so it felt good. That doesn't mean I like Craig though, right? It wouldn't matter even if I did. He's straight. I can't like him like that. Right?_   
  
"So, now that the awkwardness of our first kiss is over," Craig joked, tearing Marco out of his thoughts, "should we try the play one more time? And then we'll just memorize our scripts and then only do it one more time after that. When we perform." The Italian boy nodded, somewhat excited to be getting another kiss from him. So sue him. _No wonder Manny and Ash were attracted to him…_ he thought with a grin.   
  
"There isn't much time for us to meet…" This time, they only had to restart three times before they got all the way through. Marco said his last line, and felt his heart race a little as Craig's lips came closer. They connect shortly, and then, as fate had its way, the door sprang open.   
  
"Pizza's he…" Carlos' voice faded slowly as he saw his little brother and Craig involved in a kiss. "So you're one too, Manning?" Carlos said with disgust. "Just when I thought the fag was done, he goes and recruits."   
  
Craig was embarrassed, but Marco was at least ten times as embarrassed. "No," Craig said, somewhat confidentially, "I'm not gay. But it wouldn't matter if I was - and it doesn't matter that Marco is."   
  
"So you say you're not gay, yet you're in a fag's room, you're kissing a fag, and now you're defending one. Sounds pretty gay to me."   
  
"You're in a fag's - no offense Marco - room too, Carlos," Craig said, staring at him. "Besides, it's a school project."   
  
"What class are you in?" Carlos asked in amazement. "How To Be A Homo 101? Is Homochuk the teacher? And let me guess, that fag Tom is the best student in the class. Shit, Manning. Yesterday you were knocking up little girls, and now you're making out with a faggot. Something's wrong with you."   
  
It was Marco's turn to talk. "Shut up, Carlos! I'm a fag, okay?! I'm a queer, I'm a homo, I'm _gay_. I like boys. Get - over - it!"   
  
"Whatever. Let's just see what Homochuk thinks when he finds out about your little make-out session tonight," Carlos said, leaving the room. Marco stared after him - he hadn't even thought about that. He didn't tell Dylan about the homework assignment. He didn't know that Marco was kissing Craig. Would Dylan even believe him? He doubted he would believe someone if they said it was a homework assignment. Was Dylan going to be mad? They had just gotten back together.   
  
"Marco, you okay?" Craig asked unsurely. "I don't think Dylan would care. We had to do it. It's not your fault."   
  
Marco looked up at him, worried. "I've got to talk to Dylan before Carlos does."   
  
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Was this an insanely bad chapter or what? I don't know. Review anyway. Please? Sorry about the delay… school has started, and I have soo much homework it's not even funny. (Welcome to High School, right?) Only four more years to go, at least. Anyway, after this I'm going to try and finish the next chapter of **Dylan's Story** so look out for that. Please review guys! Thanks!   
  
**Next chapter:** It's Dylan's 18th birthday... is that a good thing or not? 


	17. Birthday Parties and Skinny Dipping

**Title:** Something New   
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for themes and language   
  
**Characters:** In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz, Tom   
  
**Pairings:** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.   
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't even live in the great country of Canada.   
  
**Author's Note:** First off, thank you to ALL of my wonderful reviewers! You guys are so awesome. :D And also, to BMWrocks, I know I add tons of angst, problems, and other stuff… but that's kind of what makes a story, isn't it? I think reading about perfect relationships would get boring after a while. Also, about Dylan getting drunk? I respect your opinion, but I have to disagree. If Dylan were around his hockey buddies, all casually drinking beer, I do think he would join in. But maybe not. ) Anyway, thanks for your comment… I will try to tone down the drama bit if wanted.   
  
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"Do you think I should ask Melanie?" Ty asked, without looking up from his magazine that he was idly flipping through.   
  
"What?" Dylan said, confused by the sudden question. He was strewn over his unmade bed, flipping uninterestedly through the television channels. Ty, however, was lying on his stomach on his floor, looking through recent hockey scores.   
  
"Do you think I should ask Melanie to go to the dance with me?" the brunette boy repeated. "She's pretty hot, and I think she likes me."   
  
"Yeah," Dylan replied, "go ahead and ask her. I think Scott already did though."   
  
He let out a long, slow sigh. "Of course he did." The two had gotten back from hockey practice only ten minutes earlier. They were both hot, sweaty, and smelled pretty badly. "I'm gonna go take a shower," Ty announced, pushing himself up into a standing position.   
  
"Okay. Want me to join you?" Dylan jokingly asked, winking.   
  
"Hey, it's not your birthday _yet_," Ty joked back, and grinned. They both laughed. Just as Ty was heading into the bathroom with a towel, the phone started ringing. The Michalchuk household was basically his second home, so he didn't hesitate to pick up the phone and answer it. "Hello?" he said.   
  
There was a pause on the other end, and then a boy's voice, "Who is this?"   
  
"Who is _this?_" Ty said suspiciously.   
  
"Marco," the voice answered.   
  
Grinning still, he said, "Oh, hello Marco. I'm sorry, but Dylan and I are a little busy right now…" He smirked at his blonde friend, who was watching curiously, and then let out a fake sexual groan. "Oh, Dylan…"   
  
Eyes widening, Dylan jumped up from the bed and snatched the telephone out of his friend's hands. "Marco?" he said quickly. "Ignore that. It was just Ty being an idiot." He gave the brunette boy a large push out of his room, and then closed the door.   
  
"Oh," Marco said, feeling relieved but still a bit hesitant to do what he had to do. Dylan could tell his boyfriend had something heavy on his mind.   
  
"So what's up?" There was no immediate answer. "How's the homework coming along?"   
  
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Marco said in a low voice. Dylan raised his eyebrows but said nothing, knowing Marco would continue when he saw fit. He couldn't think of a single homework assignment that would make the younger boy as nervous as he was - but then again, Marco was a very devoted student. Maybe he needed help with something. Who knew?   
  
"Okay," Dylan finally said, trying to get him to talk.   
  
"Well, see, we're doing plays in English."   
  
"Oh yeah?"   
  
"Yeah. We got to pick our own partners."   
  
"I see."   
  
"Craig and I are partners."   
  
"I know."   
  
"Ms. Kwan handed out the plays, though. We didn't get to choose them."   
  
"All right."   
  
"We got a romance."   
  
Dylan laughed. "Wow."   
  
"If we don't do the play, we'd get a really bad grade. It's worth a lot of points."   
  
"Okay. So what's the problem?"   
  
Marco hesitated, and then continued in slow and somewhat shaky, "There's a kiss at the end."   
  
"Wait, so you have to kiss Craig?" Marco miserably told him yes. There was a pause for a few seconds, and then Dylan burst into laughter once more. The Italian boy was stunned into silence - why was he laughing? He just told him that he was going to kiss another boy, yet he was laughing.   
  
"That's too funny," Dylan kept on laughing. When finally his chuckles had subdued, he asked, "But why did you call to tell me this?"   
  
"I… I thought you'd be mad. I mean, we've already kissed. Twice. And Carlos… he walked in on us and said he was going to tell you, so I just thought… and then I called… but you obviously aren't too mad."   
  
"I'm not mad at all," he assured his boyfriend. "It's a homework assignment. I understand you have to do it. Besides, it's not like he's a better kisser than me, right?" he playfully asked.   
  
"Well, that's another thing…" Marco responded, and the two laughed again.   
  
"He's still straight though, right?" Dylan went on, smiling to himself. "I mean, the kiss didn't turn him gay or anything, did it? I'm not in the mood for any competition."   
  
"I don't know, let me ask." Dylan let out a small laugh when he heard Marco's voice raise, and he asked Craig, who was obviously somewhere near Marco, "Craig, my terrific kissing skills haven't made you attracted to me, have they? You're still straight, right?"   
  
The older boy listened amusedly as he heard laughs coming from both boys on the other end, and then Craig's voice saying, "Straighter than ever, Marco."   
  
"Still straight," the brunette reported back to his boyfriend. "And just to prove his point, he's downloading some kind of straight-male-must-have-porn on my computer… Craig!" There was a bickering sound from the del Rossi side of the phone, and Dylan once more, had to laugh. "Well, Dyl," Marco said. "I gotta go. Sorry about this whole thing."   
  
"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow?"   
  
"Definitely."   
  
For some reason, Dylan had a strong urge to say _I love you_ to his boyfriend. He didn't know how Marco would handle it, though, and he was a bit intimidated by what the consequences of it would be. So instead, he just said "Bye, Marco" and then hung up the phone. He stared at the phone for a few seconds, lost in thought, before a sudden voice snapped him out of it.   
  
"Don't tell me you're just now getting off the phone," Ty said, standing in his doorway and wearing nothing but a towel. "Did you just have a long, steamy session of phone sex?"   
  
"No," Dylan said, rolling his eyes. He looked at how little his best friend was wearing, and shook his head. "You know, you've been naked in my other room more than any gay guy."   
  
"Well, it's not hard to beat no one," Ty joked. "Besides, I'm not completely naked. If you'd like, though -" He grabbed the top of the towel and acted like he was going to take it off.   
  
"No, man!" Dylan hurriedly said. "That's all right. Remember," he laughed, "gifts don't come until next week."   
  
"Right. The big one-eight. Can you believe we'll be in university next year, dude? So many more hot chicks… I can't wait."   
  
"Ty, to get into a university you have to be at least a little bit smart. No smart girls are ever going to want to hook up with you."   
  
"Oh, you just wait and see, Michalchuk. The ladies will be crawling all over me." Dylan laughed, before picking up Ty's clothes and shoving them at him. Then once again, he pushed Ty out of his room and towards the direction of the bathroom.   
  
"Go get dressed," he instructed.   
  
"You're not this forceful with Marco, are you?" Ty said, shaking his head.   
  
Laughing, he slammed the door in his face.   
  
-----   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Ellie, hey!   
  
**NOLabels:** Hey Marco.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Are you doing anything tomorrow? With Sean, or your dad or anything?   
  
**NOLabels:** Umm… nope. Why?   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Come to the mall with me after school?   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Next week is Dylan's birthday, and I want to get him something special. You have to come with me.   
  
**NOLabels:** Sure.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Great. Want to see a movie and get dinner afterwards?   
  
**NOLabels:** Dinner and a movie, huh? Don't tell me you've gone straight.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Noo… I just miss hanging out with you like we used to.   
  
**NOLabels:** Well, sounds great. I've got to go, though. Dad and I are making dinner.   
  
**BaddaBoom:** Okay, have fun. See you tomorrow.   
  
**NOLabels:** Bye Marco.   
  
-----   
  
"Settle down, class," Ms. Kwan said, in a strict voice. Marco, Paige, Spinner, Craig, and Ellie stopped discussing plans for Dylan's party as they each went to their own seats. "I hope everyone is ready to perform their plays. We're going to the auditorium today, so everyone please stand and quietly make their way down there." The whole class stood up and made their way out the door.   
  
"Marco, could you stay behind please?" Kwan asked, and though surprised, he nodded and waved goodbye to Ellie. "As you know," the teacher said when the rest of the students were gone, "I've been reading everyone's journals. Some entries in yours have me… particularly concerned." Marco's cheeks turned bright red - he did know, of course, that she would be reading them… but to have her comment on them… to his face… this was just too much.   
  
"Our school counselor is Ms. Sovet and I know she'd be more than happy to speak with you. I realize that you just recently… came out to your parents, and that must be very hard on you," Ms. Kwan went on. "And now, all of these troubles with your… boyfriend, I'm sure it can seem overwhelming…"   
  
"Um, Ms. Kwan?" Marco interrupted, embarrassed. "I'm okay. Really. My mom's there for me all the time, and my pa… well, I think he's starting to come around." Okay, so that was only sort of a lie. "Dylan and I did break up for a little bit, but um, we're back together."   
  
"You don't have to be embarrassed, Marco. I once taught Mr. Michalchuk and I saw him struggle through the same things that you are. I just want you to know that a good relationship should never only be about sex; whether it's a heterosexual or a homosexual relationship and -"   
  
He interrupted once more. "I know, Ms. Kwan. But Dylan and I really are okay. We discussed everything. I don't need to talk to Ms. Sovet."   
  
"All right. You're a good student, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." She smiled at him, and then the two left the room towards the auditorium. When they got there, Marco went off and sat by his friends.   
  
Ms. Kwan told the class, "Okay, up first: Gavin and Paige." Spinner walked out first onto the stage, dressed in a cowboy's hat, a thick pair of boots, and some sort of brown, cowboy-type vest. Paige followed after him, dressed similarly but in a short brown skirt and with a bandana over her mouth.   
  
They began their play, and Ellie leaned over to whisper to Marco, "What did Kwan want?"   
  
"She wanted to make sure I was okay," he whispered back, and then shrugged. "Because of my journal, you know?"   
  
"Oh." Ellie leaned back, and the two watched the rest of the play. It ended with Paige's character pulling a "gun" out and killing Spinner's character. She robbed him, and then left town. When it ended, Spinner got up from the dead, took Paige's hand, and the two bowed. Everyone clapped.   
  
"Very good," Kwan said, nodding. "Next, we have Craig and Marco." Marco stood up and joined his partner behind the stage, as Craig pulled the dress over his head and put on his wig, and Marco quickly changed into his suit and tie.   
  
"I'll go first," Marco volunteered, and he made his way onto the stage. He did his best to keep a straight face when Paige let out a quiet catcall (Ms. Kwan had told them that laughing onstage would deduct points from their grade). Finally, Craig took a deep breath, and followed. His dress hung down past his knees, and his wig kept falling into his eyes.   
  
There was a moment of silence as he stood in front of the audience, and then everyone burst out into a mad fit of laughter. It was like an epidemic, spreading over the entire auditorium. Even Ms. Kwan put her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.   
  
Craig bravely endured all of it, standing on stage like it didn't matter than he looked like a drag queen from hell. When the laughter had finally died down, Craig looked his friend in the eye, and said in the best female voice he could, "There isn't much time for us to meet."   
  
Marco bit back a grin. "We have all the time in the world, Julia, my lady. No one knows." He put his hand on Craig's shoulder, and ignored the laughter that once again came from the audience.   
  
"No one knows?" Craig went on, taking Marco's hand away from him. "The whole town watches you, Gregory. Everyone knows."   
  
"It doesn't matter," Marco said, trying the best he could to get into his character. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ms. Kwan nodding her approval. The rest of the audience was watching, amused by Craig's portrayal of a woman.   
  
They went through the rest of the play with no mistakes. Finally, it was that time. They said their last lines. Kissing Craig in the privacy of his own room was one thing, but in front of all his classmates was completely different. The time for the kiss was now, and they connected their lips. The kiss was probably shorter than the others, but they both still put all into it. The audience was silent.   
  
"All right!" Paige finally yelled, clapping her hands together. The boys pulled away, and other people started applauding as well. Some of them were laughing, some looked completely grossed out, but no one's reaction was as bad as either anticipated. Ms. Kwan clapped as well.   
  
"Very good job, boys," she said when the noise died down. "This shows how well two can perform in a scenario that they are not used to. They made the dialogue their own. And Craig, if I may say, was an extraordinary woman." Everyone laughed once more, and, though slightly embarrassed, the two bowed before returning to their seats.   
  
"That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be," Craig told his shorter friend.   
  
"No way. At least no one threw anything at us," he replied, grinning.   
  
"You did awesome," Ellie whispered, giving her best friend's hand a little squeeze. Hazel and Jimmy were called to the stage next, and Marco smiled as his classmates congratulated the two quietly.   
  
"So, Craig," Spinner said, "what was it like to kiss del Rossi?" He grinned impishly.   
  
"It was great, Spin," the curly-haired brunette shot back. "You should try it some time." With that, he put his wig on Spinner's head, and everyone who was listening giggled.   
  
Finally, Hazel and Jimmy began their play (a tragedy), and everyone watched the play with interest.   
  
The rest of the day seemed to fly by. Before they knew it, the final bell rang and Ellie and Marco left the school, destination: the mall. "I have no clue what to get him," Marco confessed as they climbed into Marco's mother's van.   
  
"Hello, Marco. Ellie," Mrs. Del Rossi said kindly when they were buckled up. The two greeted her back.   
  
"I bet if you see the perfect thing, you'll know," Ellie said. "Just try to think of what he really wants right now. It can't be too hard, can it?" Marco agreed, and they continued the drive to the mall. When they got there finally, they thanked Marco's mother, and climbed out of the vehicle.   
  
"Have fun," Mrs. Del Rossi said, smiling. "I be back later to pick you up."   
  
"Bye Ma," Marco called over his shoulder.   
  
They both knew it would be difficult to find _the_ present to buy for Dylan, but two hours later, they left the thirtieth store empty-handed. "This should not be that hard!" Marco groaned, running his hand through his hair exasperatedly. "I mean, I know him really well… why is this so difficult?"   
  
"You're worrying too much, Marco. No matter what you get him, he will like it," Ellie responded. She grinned. "And even if he doesn't, he'll pretend he does."   
  
"I don't _want_ him to pretend. I want him to actually like it." He stopped suddenly, and then snapped. "I've got it! It's perfect!" Grabbing Ellie by the wrist, he took off running. She was dragged along. He wouldn't answer the question of where they were going; instead, he ran like Ellie wasn't speaking.   
  
Finally, he hauled her into a store that neither of them visited very often. When they came out, Marco had purchased something for his birthday, with a large smile on his face.   
  
"That was an awesome idea, Marco," Ellie said, nodding. "He's going to love it."   
  
"I hope so!"   
  
-----   
  
"Spinner! Hurry - up!" Paige said, as loudly as she could in a hushed voice. Spinner entered the room, rolling his eyes. "People are going to start showing up in ten minutes. If you and Dylan aren't gone, I'll -"   
  
He didn't listen to the rest of the threat as he tramped upstairs towards Dylan's bedroom. He'd agreed to take Dylan out for a dinner so they could plan for the party - but over the past week, he had been so busy that he had forgotten to mention it to Dylan.   
  
Spinner paused at Dylan's door, forced a smile onto his face, and then knocked. "Come in," Dylan's voice said, and Spinner opened the door.   
  
"Uh, hey Dylan." The blonde boy was sitting at his desk, writing something. He looked up when Spinner entered his room, however, and briefly smiled. His official birthday wasn't for three more days, but the surprise party was in ten - no, _eight_ - minutes.   
  
"Spin," he returned.   
  
"What're you doing?"   
  
"Homework."   
  
"Oh." He paused. "Well, yanno, I'm really hungry. Aren't you?" he asked, hoping Dylan would say yes.   
  
"Not really," he said, going back to his homework. "I just ate a sandwich." He looked thoughtful as he began scribbling on the piece of paper before him.   
  
"Well, I don't have a car with me and I'm really starving…" He was a bad liar, and everyone knew it.   
  
"So eat something here."   
  
"There's nothing to eat here," Spinner said, starting to get impatient.   
  
"Then borrow my car," Dylan said, not looking up from his work. He flipped through some of the pages in his book, wrote something down, and then went back to the book. When he realized Spinner was still standing in his doorway, he put his pencil down and stared at him. "What exactly do you want?"   
  
"I want you to go with me to dinner," Spinner said, somewhat awkwardly.   
  
"Why?" he asked suspiciously. "Did Paige put you up to this?" He quickly shook his head no. "Spinner… are you asking me out on a date?" he joked, eyes shining. Spinner's own eyes quickly grew large.   
  
"What?! No! I'm just… I'm hungry and I thought, seeing as Paige and I are so close now and everything, that um, you and I… should get to know each other better." He looked at his watch - he had five and half minutes to get him out of here.   
  
"What do you mean, _so close now and everything_?" the oldest Michalchuk asked, his playful grin quickly turning into a frown. Spinner had been at their house awfully late the night before… yet he and Paige were locked away in her room for most of the day. He stood up and crossed the room, to where Spinner was standing. "Did you and Paige have sex last night?" he demanded, crossing his arms. Spinner quickly took a step back.   
  
"W-what? No!" he said, once more.   
  
"You better not have. If I find out you and my baby sister are doing something -"   
  
"I know, I know," Spin said, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Just, do you want to go grab something to eat with me or not?" When Dylan didn't answer right away, he added, "It's on me," even though he didn't want to.   
  
"Really?" Dylan grinned. "In that case, sure. Let me grab my keys. Now that you've mentioned it, I am _really_ hungry. I could use a huge expensive meal right about now."   
  
"Funny." Spinner and Dylan went down the steps, got into Dylan's car, and started driving - with Dylan behind the wheel - towards a restaurant. Just as they were leaving the street, Dylan quickly did a double-take. "Wait - was that…?"   
  
"What?" the younger boy asked.   
  
"I could've sworn that was Marco, going towards our house… but he said he was busy tonight."   
  
"I didn't see his car," Spinner quickly said. "Dude, I think you're hallucinating."   
  
"You sure?"   
  
"Uh, yeah. Now hurry up. I'm starving."   
  
----   
  
**Journal entry 13   
Marco del Rossi**   
  
Well, today is Dylan's birthday party. It took me forever to pick out his present, but I got him something that I know - well, hope - he'll love. This last week has been great. We've hung out a lot. It's been pretty much drama-free.   
  
Turns out, Carlos got one of his friends to tell Dylan that I've been "cheating" on him, but Dylan laughed and ignored him. I'm glad he wasn't mad about the whole play situation. Our play, by the way, turned out awesome. Craig and I got top marks.   
  
I guess I will be leaving soon. I'm going early to help Paige decorate. Today should be a fun day!   
  
Ciao.   
  
**/Journal**   
  
-----   
  
"Marco! Thank God you're here. Spinner forgot the party was today, and we just got Dylan out of the house five minutes ago. We have a lot of decorating to do," Paige babbled, as she opened the door and let the Italian boy into her house.   
  
"I know. I just passed them - I don't think he saw me though. When is everyone else coming?" He put down the bags of things he brought to help decorate, as well as his gift for Dylan.   
  
As if answering his question, the doorbell rang. Marco opened the door and found Ty, Scott, and Brad standing on the Michalchuk's doorstep. "Hey buddy," they said, walking in as they owned the place. "Dyllie-boy gone?"   
  
"Yes," Paige answered for him. "Can one of you guys run down to the bakery and pick up the cake?"   
  
"I'm on it," Brad said, smiling. He went back outside, climbed into his car, and drove off in the direction of the bakery.   
  
"Great. Ty, I need you to start hanging these up," she said, handing him some decorations. "Scott, you're in charge of moving the furniture around. All of these chairs -" she flicked her hands towards the living room chairs " - need to be moved into another room, and those need to be moved back towards the walls. And then move the table over there, we'll put the refreshments and food there."   
  
"Paige, this is an invite only party, right? I mean, it's not going to be like your last party, is it?" Ty asked. He looked at Marco and then lowered his voice, "Because we all know how that one turned out."   
  
"It's a birthday party, Ty. Friends only. This'll be completely low-key. My mom and dad will even be here."   
  
"Good," Ty said, and then the two boys headed off to do their assigned jobs. The doorbell rang once more, and Paige hurriedly went to answer it. This time, Hazel, Ash, Terri, and Ellie were standing outside.   
  
"I am so glad you're here," she said, ushering them in. "We have so much to do. Marco, there's a bunch of food hidden in the pantry - it's behind all the Tupperware. I need you to bring that out and put it on the table. Ellie, can you get the drinks?" The two walked into the kitchen together.   
  
"I'm nervous," Marco told his best friend when they were alone. "What if he doesn't like the present I got him?"   
  
"Marco, he _will_," Ellie assured him. They gathered the food and drinks, and carried them back out to the living room. By that time, Jeff, Michael, and two boys and four girls Marco didn't recognize had also joined the party. Everyone was hard at work. Within a matter of minutes, the whole house looked more festive. The party had a hockey theme - it ultimately looked like a seven-year-old boy's birthday party, not a guy turning eighteen, but they all knew Dylan would love it.   
  
The doorbell rang once more, and Craig, Jimmy, and more older kids that Marco didn't know entered the house. They all continued to get ready. At one point, the Michalchuk parents came in, but most were too busy to notice. Brad returned to the cake - it was decorated with icing hockey sticks and pucks, and had only two candles: a "1" and an "8".   
  
Marco didn't think they suited the cake at all. He went into the kitchen, and searched through the drawers until he found a giant pack of birthday cake candles, and even some fake candles that didn't blow out no matter how hard you tried. He put seventeen regular candles on the cake after pulling out the lone two, and then topped it by putting the fake candle in the dead center. He knew that would make Dylan mad.   
  
He put the cake away, and then once more, the doorbell rang. Everyone else was too busy doing his or her own thing to answer it, so Marco opened it. He nearly gasped at what he saw. "What're you doing here?" he asked rudely.   
  
"I was invited," Tom replied. "But if I knew you'd be here, though, I wouldn't have bothered coming." He was scowling down at the shorter boy.   
  
"Well, I am here, so bye." Marco started to slam the door, but Tom quickly put his foot in the way. "Listen, kid, I'm over Dylan, okay? We're friends. He's all yours."   
  
Marco raised an eyebrow slightly. "You mean it?"   
  
"Yeah. I do." He walked into the house, carrying a large gift-wrapped box. "You know, I'm not exactly the asshole that you think I am." Doubtfully, Marco's other eyebrow joined its first, high up on his forehead. "There was a time when Dyl and I were just good friends. That's what I want again. He's an amazing guy."   
  
"Yeah," Marco agreed. "He is."   
  
Tom nodded at his ex-boyfriend's boyfriend, before heading off with some of the other people that Marco didn't know. He supposed they were all friends.   
  
Just then, the phone started to ring. "Everyone be quiet!" Paige instructed loudly, and the whole house fell silent. "Hello?" she said into the phone. "Oh, hi Honeybee. Okay. See you soon." She hung up the phone, looking a bit panicked. "They're almost here! Everyone get ready!" Marco joined up with Ellie, and the two crawled behind the couch. When everyone else was hidden, Paige turned off the lights and ran to hide herself.   
  
A few seconds later, the door opened. A loud burp was heard, and then Dylan's voice saying, "That was great, Spin. Thanks." He and Spinner entered the living room. "I will never understand why my mom's so adamant on keeping every light in the house off."   
  
He flicked on a switch, and then looked completely surprised to have a huge number of people jump up from their hiding spaces and yelling, "SURPRISE!"   
  
"What the…!" He stared, a bit shell-shocked, around the room before bursting into laughter.   
  
"Happy birthday, Dyl!" almost everyone shouted.   
  
"Oh, man. This is great. Thanks so much guys," he smiled, looking around at the corny hockey decorations and a banner that said _Happy 18th, Dylan!_ "Spinner!" he suddenly said, looking down accusingly at his sister's boyfriend. "That's why you insisted on treating me to dinner, eh?" He pulled a surprised Spinner into a tight hug. He went around and greeted all of his guests, gave his family members a hug, and then walked over to Marco.   
  
"So this is why you were too busy to hang out with me tonight?" he grinned. "Either way, I'm glad you're here."   
  
"Me too, Dyl. Happy birthday." He stood straight and gave his boyfriend a soft peck on the lips.   
  
"Well, Dylan, cake or presents first?" Paige asked.   
  
"Mm… tough decision," he said. "What kind of cake is it?"   
  
"Chocolate," Brad said.   
  
"Awesome. Let's do cake first, then."   
  
"Dylan, you just ate," his mother scolded slightly.   
  
"A _lot_," Spinner muttered grumpily.   
  
"I'm a growing boy, Mom," he laughed. "Well, give it a couple of days and I'll be a man." He grinned widely, and nearly everyone in the room shook his or her head. "What?" he asked innocently. They all laughed.   
  
Paige dimmed the lights and lit all the candles on the cake. She was the first to break into, "_Happy birthday to you…"_ and everyone else quickly joined in. "_Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Dylan… Happy birthday to you!"_   
  
"And many mo-o-ore!" Craig added obnoxiously at the end.   
  
Dylan paused for a few seconds, and then looked at Marco. They exchanged smiles, and then Dylan closed his eyes and hovered over his cake. He was apparently making a deep and thoughtful wish. Finally, he opened his eyes and began blowing out the candles. Seventeen of them were blown out in one breath - the one in the center, however, remained lit. Frowning, Dylan blew at that one too, but still, it didn't go out.   
  
The guests at the party were laughing at the curly-haired boy's inability to blow out the candle. He stopped blowing after a few seconds, and then stood up straight. "Let me guess… trick candle?"   
  
Laughing, Marco nodded. Dylan threw the candle down, shaking his head. "Dirty trick." Mrs. Michalchuk began cutting out the cake and handing it out.   
  
"Why don't you open presents now, Dylan?" one of Dylan's good girl friends asked when they'd all finished eating the cake.   
  
"Okay." They all sat down, with Dylan in the center of the room, surrounded by gifts. He began to reach towards Marco's.   
  
"Wait," Marco said, grabbing his arm. "Open mine last."   
  
Dylan grinned and reached instead for another present. "To Dylan, from Tom," he read aloud, before tearing through the wrapping paper. "Wow," he said, when it was opened. He lifted the expensive hockey stick up for everyone to see. "Thanks, Tom. This is nice." Almost everyone else's presents were similar; Dylan was overjoyed.   
  
Finally, only Marco's present was left. Dylan gingerly took the gift in his hands, and opened it. When he did so, he breathed in deeply - almost a gasp - and looked at Marco. "This - this is amazing, Marco," he said at last.   
  
"I knew you'd like it," he said with a smile.   
  
"Like it?" He eyed his gift again, almost in awe. Everyone else was silent. "I love it. Thank you."   
  
"That was a great idea, Marco," Mrs. Michalchuk said, and everyone nodded their agreements. He shyly smiled.   
  
"Who says we start up a street hockey game?" Ty called, disrupting the somewhat sappy moment the two boys were sharing. Everyone started shouting and ran outdoors, borrowing hockey sticks from Dylan.   
  
"You never taught me how to play," Marco told Dylan, grinning as they walked outdoors side-by-side.   
  
"It's not hard. Trust me," he put a stick into Marco's hands with a smirk. All of the guys and a few of the girls at the party played street hockey for a long time. Everyone else was sitting off to the side, talking and laughing. A couple of hours later, some people said goodbye and left. A few hours after that, everyone but Dylan, Paige, Spinner, and Marco were gone.   
  
"Hey, Marco?" Dylan said. "Do you wanna take a walk with me?"   
  
"Sure," Marco said, following his boyfriend outside. They took each other's hands as they walked comfortably in a companionable silence at first.   
  
"I just wanted to say, thanks again for the present. No one has ever bought me something that meant that much to me." Marco smiled hard when Dylan stooped down and kissed him on the cheek. "And to repay you," Dylan went on, "I'm taking you somewhere special."   
  
"Oh yeah?" Marco said. "When?"   
  
"Right now," Dylan grinned. He seemed to be leading him back into the woods - there were more trees as they continued walking. "I'm taking you to my favorite place on Earth when I was a kid. I used to come up here almost every night."   
  
"Should I expect to find dirty magazines?" Marco joked, and the two laughed.   
  
"Nah. I did all of that stuff in my own room. Oh, we're getting close. Close your eyes," he instructed, placing his hands over Marco's eyes. "No peeking!" he said. Marco wondered where he was being led, but the boys walked in silence for a few minutes, with Dylan guiding his boyfriend by the shoulders. "Okay, we're here." He removed his hands. "Open your eyes!"   
  
Marco did as he was told, and then blinked once or twice to make sure he wasn't seeing anything. "I had no clue this was here," he said after a little bit. They were standing in front of a large lake - it was glittering, clear, and extremely pretty. The sun was still out, though not for much longer.   
  
"This is beautiful," Marco breathed, looking around.   
  
"Yep. I always came up here and swam with Paige, or a couple of buddies. It was amazing - it could have been the coldest day of the summer, and that lake would still feel as warm as it would if it were one hundred degrees out," Dylan said. Suddenly, he grinned. "What do you say to a quick swim?"   
  
"What?" Marco said, raising his eyebrows. "I say there's no way I'm swimming in these brand new jeans."   
  
"I'm not asking you to!" Dylan said, pulling his shirt off. He grinned and motioned for Marco to do the same thing. Next, Dylan began unbuttoning his jeans and slid them off easily. Here he was, nearly naked, standing by a huge lake. Marco's eyes, however, grew wider than ever before when Dylan continued to undress - he pulled off his boxers and flung them off to the side. Marco got more than an eyeful as he ran and plunged right into the lake.   
  
"Dylan - what are you - what're you doing?!" he said, a bit embarrassed; but also a bit pleased.   
  
"Going skinny-dipping. You can't tell me you haven't ever wanted to skinny-dipping." He smiled widely. "Come on. The water feels great."   
  
"No way," Marco said, shaking his head firmly.   
  
"Please?" He gave him a puppy-dog face. "It's my birthday!"   
  
"You know I can't resist that look." He sighed. "Fine." Slowly, he pulled off his shirt and carefully folded it and sat it on the ground. "Just… don't look, okay?" Dylan laughed and turned around in the water, treading in place. He could still see Marco out of the corner of his eye, though, and he liked what he saw.   
  
Marco pulled off his jeans and boxers faster than he ever had before, and then dove into the lake. When he surfaced, he took a deep breath. "You're right. It does feel great."   
  
"Want to play a game?" Dylan asked, smirking mischievously.   
  
"What game?"   
  
"Well, see, I try to chase you in the water. Every time I catch you, you have to kiss me." He grinned.   
  
"Sounds fun," Marco smiled. "But there's something you don't know about me, Dyl."   
  
"Oh yeah? Like what?"   
  
"I took advanced swimming classes for nine years." With that, he took off towards the other end of the lake, completely naked, with an equally naked Dylan following close behind.   
  
A little while later, after playing their game for a bit, Marco crawled out of the lake and pulled on his boxers, soaking wet. The sun was nearly down, and he was starting to get a bit chilly. Dylan followed him out, putting on his own boxers. He pulled Marco closed to him, and then kissed him hard on the lips. "Today was a lot of fun, Marco."   
  
"Yeah, it was." He smiled. "I never dreamed I'd go skinny-dipping."   
  
"First time for everything." They lay back in the grass, laying close to each other for warmth. Dylan kissed his boyfriend once more, and then the four words came toppling out of his mouth. He hadn't meant to say them. He was scared of the reaction he would receive. But still, the words came.   
  
"I love you, Marco."   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
  
Umm… I've always wanted see Marco and Dylan skinny-dip. So I wrote that. :D Sorry this chapter took so long to put up. It was really long (about three pages more than usual) so maybe that makes up for it? This chapter is also pretty angst-free.   
  
I hope this is okay; it's 3:15 AM and I need sleep badly, but I promised myself I wouldn't sleep until I finished this chapter. So please, review and make my day. D   
  
Thank you, everyone, for reading! 


	18. Sex Talks and Family Gatherings

**Title:**Something New 

**Rating: **PG-13 for themes and language 

**Characters: **In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Dylan's parents, Paige, Spinner, and Marco's Italian cousins! 

**Pairings: ** Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others. 

**Disclaimer: **I don't even live in the great country of Canada. 

**Author's Note: ** Hahaha you didn't think I could do it, did you! You thought this would go un-updated forever! Well, nope! All it took was one slow Sunday, and you know have chapter eighteen of Something New. Sorry it took me five months, guys. I had no inspiration whatsoever. So, maybe this chapter sucks. I don't know, maybe it's good! You tell me. And if you read this, thank you so much for sticking with me over these rocky last five months. This is sort of a slow chapter, with not much going on, but I like it okay. Next chapter (yes, there WILL be a next chapter!) will be more exciting, I promise. 

Anyway, read & review and you will be loved! 

Marco's heart thudded loudly against his chest as Dylan's words replayed over and over again in his head. _I love you. I love you. I love you._ His head was spinning and it was getting hard to breath. _I love you. I love you._ He felt Dylan's hand secured over his own, and could feel Dylan's pulse going as fast as his own. _I love you._

"Marco?" Dylan said, concerned, his eyes burning directly into Marco's chest, as though he could see his heart pulsating wildly. The shorter boy said nothing, watching the treetops spinning in front of his eyes. His vision fogged over as Dylan said his name once more. 

Finally, he received a shake and his eyesight immediately cleared. He sat up, feeling dazed, and looked around the forest. He wondered how many guys had heard those words come from Dylan's mouth as he picked his shirt up and pulled it over his head. 

Completely and utterly confused, Dylan watched him dress with a frown. He pushed himself into a sitting position as well and grabbed Marco's elbow. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's too soon, I know." 

"No -" Marco began, but was cut off by Dylan. 

"Actually, I'm not sorry. It's how I feel. I love being with you, I love telling people I'm with you, _I love you_. You don't have to say it back. You don't even have to say anything. But you need to know how I feel." He released his grip on Marco's arm, waiting fearfully for a response. 

To his great relief, Marco smiled. "I love you too, Michalchuk." He cleared his throat, "You just kind of, uh, gave me a heart attack there at first. Maybe you should have said that before I came out to my parents. It would have made facing my dad look like a piece of cake." 

"Oh, we have a comedian in the house," Dylan replied, rolling his eyes. He leaned in and gave Marco a kiss on the cheek, before picking up his own shirt and putting it on. When he picked his pants up off of the ground, he saw something small and metal fall out of the pocket. He picked it up and ran his thumb over it, a smile etching onto his lips. 

It was a ring; a silver ring that he had received from Marco for his birthday. This wasn't just some ordinary ring, though - Marco had put as much effort into it as Dylan put into a hockey game. There was an assortment of wonderful things engraved into it: on the outside was Dylan's name and his hockey number, two small hockey sticks on either end, and the year he would be graduating. 

But the best part was on the inside, written in beautiful script, was "siete la mia stella". Marco had whispered into his ear after his present was opened that that Italian phrase meant "you are my star" and Dylan had loved it right then and there. 

Marco had also bought him a hockey jersey of his favorite player and as a joke, a stuffed whale (which was now in his room next to the plastic bee he got from his Kids' Meal), but he liked nothing better than the ring. 

"We should get going soon," Marco spoke up, bringing him abruptly out of his memory. Dylan looked up and noticed his boyfriend was fully dressed, and so he nodded and pulled his pants on over his boxers. "Your parents might be worried," he finished. 

When he finished dressing, he said to Marco, "Let's go," and held out his hand. Marco took the hand, but he was unexpectedly hoisted up onto Dylan's back. 

"Dylan! What are you doing!" he shouted, squirming a bit. 

"Giving you a piggy-back ride," Dylan replied, laughing. "Like you've never had one before?" Marco stopped struggling a little and let Dylan carry him on his back, all the way back to his house. He didn't put Marco down until they were in the Michalchuk household, in Dylan's room. They'd skirted weird looks from family members the entire way up. Dylan dropped him on his bed, then lay down right beside him. 

"Hey, Dylan?" Marco said, running a hand through his wet hair. He glanced at the clock on the dresser and frowned. "It's getting pretty late, and I think my parents want me to come home tonight. Do you think you could give me a ride home?" 

Dylan was visibly disappointed, but he nodded anyway. "Sure." He planted his feet on the ground and stood up, then crossed the room to his closet. He disappeared into it for a few seconds, but returned with two hooded sweatshirts in his hands. One which looked a little bit smaller, a red one, he threw to Marco, then placed the larger - a gray one - over his shirt. "Your shirt looks a little damp," he explained. "Don't want your parents to be suspicious." 

Marco gratefully accepted the hoodie, and pulled it on. "Thanks," he said with a smile, standing up as well. Dylan grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze, and then together they walked downstairs. They were met at the landing by Mr. Michalchuk, who was frowning rather deeply. 

"Where are you off to, boys?" he asked, looking into Dylan's eyes. Dylan swore he was wearing a disapproving look, the one he usually wore before grounding Dylan, though he had no clue why. 

"I'm just going to drop Marco off at his house. Why?" 

"No reason. Take him home, then come straight back, okay? I need to have a talk with you." Dylan nodded, a little bewildered, and then continued towards the front door. 

"What was that about?" Marco asked in a low voice, as soon as the door was shut behind them and they were out of earshot. 

"No idea. I think I'm in trouble though." He racked his brain, trying to think of anything he'd done in the past week that could have gotten him in trouble. There had been alcohol at the party, but he and Paige had told their parents about it, and that they made those who brought the alcohol leave. He'd left out the part about getting drunk, but there was no way he could have found out about that - right? 

"I'm sure it's not anything too bad," Marco assured him. "Your parents know you're a good kid." He offered a smile and a wink after that statement. 

"Let's hope so." The blonde opened the passenger car door first, so Marco could hop in, then walked around to the driver's side and got in himself. He buckled his seatbelt, started up the car, and pulled out of the driveway. 

"You know Marco," Dylan said after a short silence. "Lately, I've been thinking a lot about university." The word alone scared Marco, and he stared down at his hands while Dylan talked. "I've gotten a lot of scholarship offers for hockey. But what I'm really thinking about is going someplace close to here. I wouldn't live at home, but I'd only be about a thirty-minute drive away. The classes are good, they hockey team is decent, and I think I could really go there." He took his eyes off the road for a split second to catch Marco's reaction. 

The Italian boy was almost speechless. "Wow," he said softly after a moment's hesitation. "Dylan. Wow. That would be… _amazing_. But I don't want you to feel you have to stay here because of me. I want you to live to the best of your abilities, and even if that means going to university somewhere five hours away, well…" His sentence ended there, but they both knew he was lying. He wanted to be close to Dylan more than anything. 

"I know that. But even if it weren't close to home, it'd probably be one of my top choices. It's a good school and I wouldn't mind being there at all." He smiled, and Marco excitedly put his hand on top of Dylan's knee. "And Ty wants to go there too. So it would be a lot easier with my best friend there and everything," he added. "It's not a sure thing yet, but it's looking pretty good." 

"I hope so, Dylan. I want to be as close to you as I can. But _if_… if it doesn't turn out that way, what would happen?" he asked, in almost a scared voice. "What would happen with us?" 

"There's always the phone," he replied, not liking to think about that possibility. "And the Internet. And I'd drive back as often as possible. And when you get your license, you could come stay with me. For a day, a weekend, a whole week! We could make it work." 

"I know." Marco smiled at him as Dylan pulled the car into Marco's driveway. He leaned over and gave him a small peck on the lips before opening his car door. "Good night, Dylan." 

"Good night gorgeous," Dylan answered with a grin. "I love you." Saying those words gave him the best feeling in the world. They came out of his mouth tasting like sugar, and he could repeat it a million times and never get tired of it. 

"Love you too." Marco closed the door and ran up the stairs into his house. Dylan sat in the driveway for a minute or two after his boyfriend had disappeared from sight, before finally pulling back out and heading home. 

When Dylan got back to the house, he found his dad sitting in a chair not far from where he'd been before Dylan left. When he saw his son, he immediately put down the newspaper he was holding but not reading, and stood up. "We need to talk." 

"Sure, Dad," Dylan said, feeling a bit uneasy. "Where's Mom?" 

"She's driving Gavin home, and Paige went with her. Let's go up to your bedroom. If they return before we're done talking, I don't want them to disrupt us." Before waiting for a reply, Mr. Michalchuk turned around and started up the stairs. Silently, Dylan followed him, all the way into his bedroom. His dad closed the door and then locked it, then pointed to the bed. 

"Sit," he said, with a stern face. Dylan immediately obeyed and sat on his unmade bed, while his dad pulled a chair over and sat right across from him. 

"Your mother was cleaning your bedroom tonight," Mr. Michalchuk began, "when she found something… interesting. Now, I know we haven't discussed this before but I feel now is the time. You're almost eighteen." 

Dylan sat on the bed anxiously, not knowing what his mom could have found that was so horrible. He didn't have any porn magazines in his room (that he knew of). 

"She was cleaning out your dresser drawer," his dad finally supplied, and Dylan's heart sank, "when she found _these_." He pulled out something from behind his back, and his son had to fight from letting a groan escape. In his hands were condoms, a whole strip of them. "Care to explain yourself?" 

"Dad," Dylan said, rubbing his face in embarrassment. "I… I don't know exactly what…" 

His father interrupted him there. "I know what you're thinking. You're eighteen; you're a man now. You should be able to make decisions for yourself; you're old enough to have sex. Right?" He didn't give Dylan enough time to answer before going on. "But you have to remember something. Your boyfriend. Marco. He is only… how old?" 

"Almost sixteen," Dylan mumbled miserably. 

"Right. About the same age as Paige. Do you think she's old enough to be having sex?" 

"No way!" Dylan immediately responded. Then his stomach knotted. The age difference between Marco and Paige had always seemed humongous - he was his boyfriend, she was just his little sister. But saying it out loud changed things. Marco was young. 

"Exactly. Now, I know you. You're a fine gentleman, and you always treat others with the utmost respect. I know you wouldn't to anything foolish, like pressuring him into sex." Another pang of guilt. Dylan grabbed his stomach in pain and stared downwards. 

Mr. Michalchuk stopped, looking curiously at his son's guilt-ridden face. "You and Marco… haven't had sex yet, have you?" he asked. 

"No, Dad. We haven't done it yet. We've talked about it a lot. He says he's not ready and for now, I'm fine with that," Dylan said, forcing himself to look up into his father's eyes. 

He got a nod in return, and an almost-smile that vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. "But this isn't only about Marco. It's about you too. Even if you were dating someone your own age, you're most likely not ready for sex - or the repercussions of sex - yet. You know, I lost my virginity when I was about your age." 

Dylan groaned inwardly, his ears turning pink. God, how embarrassing. Talking about sex with your father is bad enough, but know one wants to hear when their parents did it. 

"I regret it, too," Mr. Michalchuk threw in. "I met your mother two weeks after that. She gave me her virginity later on, and I wished I could have done the same for her." 

"Dad! Please! Keep yours and mom's sex lives to yourself," Dylan pleaded, looking extremely disgusted. His dad just laughed it off. 

"Sorry. But still son, you have to know that it's with the right person." 

Dylan frowned. "Marco _is_ the right person." 

"You may think that now," he argued lightly. "But most relationships in high school don't work out. You're going to university next year, he'll still be a high school student. And I think you should save your virginity for the someone that you **know** is special." 

"I do know it, Dad," he said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes the littlest bit. "And you know what? I told him I loved him tonight." His dad leaned back, registering the news he just received, and frowned. 

"And I meant it," Dylan added. "I meant it with all my heart. I love him. And he loves me too." He was glaring now, daring his father to object. If he wanted a war, he would get one. 

"I know you do, Dylan," Mr. Michalchuk said after a small silence. He smiled and put his hand on Dylan's leg, and his son's whole body seemed to relax. "I could tell you did. But that doesn't mean I want you to forget what I said tonight." 

"I won't," he promised, returning the smile. 

"While I'm up here, let's forget all the emotional aspects of sex that we just discussed and talk about the… physical aspects for a bit." He was obviously choosing his words very carefully. Dylan noticed he was still holding the condoms, and that he was gripping them rather tightly. 

"Do you know how, um, how sex is… how two men… how two men of a homosexual relationship engage in sex?" he stuttered, looking a little pink in the cheeks. 

"Of course I do, Dad," Dylan said, his whole face as red as a cherry. He wanted this talk to be over so badly. This was humiliating. "I may be a virgin, but I'm not naïve." 

"Okay then. I don't know from experience, but when you came out… well, I did a little research and I found out how… Well, I was enlightened, shall we say? And from what I learned, sex for the first time can be rather… painful. There are certain things you need to use to… reduce the pain, and you've got to be prepared…" 

"I know," Dylan muttered, clenching his teeth. This conversation was what was painful. "But painful or not, it's a way to show how much I love Marco. And when he's ready - and when I'm ready - we'll talk about it and figure it all out. But right now he isn't ready, so we don't even need to be having this conversation. Okay?" 

"You're right," Mr. Michalchuk said, blatantly relieved. He stood up from his chair, then grabbed Dylan's shirt as well and pulled him roughly to his feet. Then he gave his son, who was a little bit shorter than him, a big hug. When he pulled away, he stuffed the condoms into Dylan's hands. 

"Be wise, son. And if you're going to do it, at least be prepared." With those words, he departed and Dylan gratefully collapsed on his bed, laughing to himself. 

**TyIsTheMan:** Hey Dyl, whats going on? 

**Idylan:** Oh you know, the normal stuff. Receiving sex talks from my dad, all that good stuff. 

**TyIsTheMan:** No way! So he found out about us, huh? 

**Idylan:** Keep on dreaming, Ty. 

**TyIsTheMan:** I asked Lainey to go to the dance with me today. 

**Idylan:** Oh yeah? What did she say? 

**TyIsTheMan:** No. 

**Idylan:** Too bad, man. 

**TyIsTheMan:** Yeah. Have you asked Marco yet? Please tell me you guys aren't wearing matching suits or anything. 

**Idylan:** Oh come on, we're not _that_ pathetic. But no, I haven't asked him. I don't know if I should. Don't you think it'd be a little weird if we went together? I don't want to make him uncomfortable. 

**TyIsTheMan:** Uncomfortable? Doubtful. Not like you have anyone like Hogart to worry about. Oh, that'd be funny… Hogart at a school function. 

**Idylan:** Yeah, but Carlos del Rossi probably will be. Besides, I don't think Marco would really want to dance with me in front of all those people there. 

**TyIsTheMan:** He'd be crazy not to. I know from experience that you're one hell of a slow dancer. 

**Idylan:** Oh quit it, before my ego gets too big. 

**TyIsTheMan:** Let's make a deal. If I don't find a girl before the dance, and you or Marco are too uncomfortable with it all, you be my date. 

**Idylan:** Sure you want to do that? You might as well kiss your reputation goodbye. 

**TyIsTheMan:** Please. Everyone will just be jealous that I got a hotter date than them. 

**Idylan:** Haha, if you say so Ty. You're definitely my second choice for a date, though. I'm going to go on to bed. See you tomorrow at practice. 

**TyIsTheMan:** Yeah, see you man. Night. 

**Idylan:** Night. 

Marco rolled over in bed, closing his as tightly as he could to keep any rays of sunshine from getting in. He breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of Dylan. That made him snap his eyes open right away, but the scent was just coming from the red hoodie his face was pressed into. 

He groaned and closed his eyes again, but he knew that once the eyes opened, he couldn't get back to sleep. Yawning, he reached over to his bedside table and grabbed his cell phone. He had three text messages - one from Dylan, one from Ellie, and one text message from Heather Sinclaire, telling him to send it to ten other people or else he would die. 

He read and replied to Dylan's message with a smile, then rolled out of bed. He could tell that his ma was making breakfast, and it smelled good. He threw on a pair of plaid pajama pants and Dylan's red hoodie and padded downstairs towards the kitchen. 

Marco expected to see his mother at the stove and his father at the table drinking coffee, and he expected to see his brother reading the sports page in the newspaper, but he did not expect to see five other people in the kitchen as well. They were all Italian, throwing their native language around the kitchen easily as they got ready to eat. 

Marco stood in the doorway for some time, blinking and staring at the unexpected visitors, before a boy sitting next to Carlos turned around and grinned at him. "Hey Marco," the boy said, and everyone else's head turned to look at him. 

"Hey Dominic," he greeted his older cousin, who a little bit older than Carlos. "Aunt Violetta, Uncle Antonio, Angelo, and Aida." He looked at each of his relatives as he said hello to them. "When did you get here?" 

"We flew on a plane last night!" Aida, the youngest child and only daughter, supplied excitedly. She was six years old, with dark hair and eyes and wore a constant smile. 

"We got in at about three in the morning," Angelo, the middle child who was a year or two younger than Marco, added. All del Rossis looked a lot alike. Antonio was Papa del Rossi's brother. Violetta was his wife, and Dominic, Angelo, and Aida were their children. Though they lived in Italy, the children's English was just as good as their Italian. They traveled to Canada so much that they had to know it. Marco's aunt and uncle spoke limited English, though, and spent most of the time conversing in their normal language. 

"Marco!" his dad called, gripping him by the shoulder. "Can I talk to you in the family room for a second?" Without waiting for a reply, he yanked Marco out of the kitchen. "Listen," he said when they were out of earshot. "I haven't told them about you, and I don't want them to find out. Understand?" 

He nodded quietly. He wouldn't have told them even if he wanted to - his aunt and uncle were extremely conservative and would frown deeply upon that. And as for his cousins, well, he liked them and didn't want to ruin their relationship. 

"Good," Mr. del Rossi snapped, heading back into the kitchen. Marco followed him after a second, and sat down in between Aida and Dominic, with Angelo across from him. His mother and aunt brought the food onto the table, and they all joined hands and said grace before eating. Finally, they dug into the good food and chatted while eating. 

"So Marco," Dominic said, looking at him as he ate. "What's been going on? Got yourself a girlfriend now?" His father shot him a dirty look. 

"Nope. No girlfriend," Marco answered truthfully, stuffing egg into his mouth. 

"I have a boyfriend," Aida whispered, leaning in close to Marco so her parents wouldn't overhear. "His name is Giorgio and he gave me flowers." She giggled. 

"Oh really? Is he cute?" Marco whispered back, then felt his cheeks go red. Oops. He looked around. No one had noticed, and Aida probably didn't even know what gay meant. 

"Yes," Aida replied, nodding solemnly. "But he's not as cute as my old boyfriend, Dante. Or Constantin. Or Aldo." She giggled again, in the adorable six-year-old way. 

Discreetly, Dominic nudged Marco and they both tried not to laugh. Marco listened patiently as she went on about her boyfriends, but he really wanted to talk to Dominic. Dominic had been his role model as a kid, and he still thought he was one of the coolest guys he knew. 

When Aida finished talking to him, Marco turned to his older cousin and said, "So what are your plans for the day, Dom?" 

"Carlos has soccer practice today, and all of our parents and Aida are going somewhere. So that leaves you, me, and Angelo. Your ma said I could drive her car today. Do you have any plans?" 

Secretly, Marco was glad his aunt and uncle would be gone. They were so strict, and expected their kids - and nephews - to behave perfectly. He shook his head in response to Dominic's question. "No, I don't have any plans. We could go to the mall or something." 

"That sounds good," Angelo said, grinning. They all resumed eating. 

When all of the food was gone and the plates were empty, everyone stood up to leave. Dominic, Angelo, Marco, and Carlos were already halfway out of the kitchen, when Uncle Antonio said harshly, "_Arresto!"_ They stopped, and turned around and faced him. Dominic looked troubled and somewhat sheepish. 

"_Dominic, ritorno qui!_" he yelled, pointing by his feet angrily. The rest of the family watched in silence as Dom made his way over to his father. 

"_Desiderate essere puniti! Pulite!"_ his dad shouted, then went on to shoo everyone else out of the kitchen. 

Dom hung his head and nodded and said, barely audible, "S� signore." He began to clean up the table by himself, while everyone else left the room. 

"I'll help," Marco offered, staying in the kitchen and helping him wash the dirty plates. "Your dad is pretty strict with you. Why didn't he yell at Angelo, or me and Carlos even, to stay and clean?" He took a plate from Dominic and ran it under the water. 

Dom looked a little bit hesitant. "It's because… well, I'm the oldest, I guess. He expects a lot of me. I'm sure not what he wanted me to be, though." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Nothing. Forget about it." Antonio reentered the kitchen, and Dominic immediately fell silent as he dried the dishes and put them back where they belong. 

"Marco," Antonio said with a smile as he patted him on the back. "My boy. You have plans today?" He spoke slowly, but Marco appreciated the fact that he was trying to use English. 

"Dominic and Angelo and I were going to go to the mall," Marco responded, also speaking slower than usual. "I'm going to show them around, I guess." 

"That good. You and Angelo find nice girls? Get one for Dominic too." He laughed, and Marco uneasily did too, though he didn't understand why what he just said was funny in the least bit. He looked at Dominic, who was glowering silently. He wished he could say something, but he knew he couldn't tell his uncle he was gay. It would ruin their whole family vacation. 

Aunt Violetta came back into the kitchen as well at that point, with Aida right behind her. "Marco, Dominic. Aida does not want to go with us today. Could she go with you boys?" Marco looked down at Aida, who stuck out her lower lip, and he laughed and nodded. 

"Of course she can go with us." Aida threw up her arms and cheered, and Marco had to laugh again. 

"We going to leave now. _Buona giornata!_" Violetta said, smiling down at them. Before actually leaving the kitchen, though, Antonio muttered something quietly to Dominic, who just nodded silently. Marco went out and said goodbye to his parents and aunt and uncle, then sat down on the couch. Carlos was gone by that point as well. 

"You're awfully quiet around your dad," Marco noted to Dominic, raising an eyebrow. That confused him. Antonio used to be so proud of his son. Now it almost seemed as if he detested him. 

"Papa doesn't let Dommy talk at home much," Aida said to Marco, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Dom shot his little sister a dirty look. "Not since he quit the football team at school because he kept getting hurt." 

"Aida Rachele!" Dominic snapped suddenly. "Be quiet and don't talk about things you don't know about." Aida stopped bouncing up and down and looked as if she was about to cry. 

"Don't tell her to shut up, Dominic!" Angelo said. "She was telling the truth." 

Marco looked between the three siblings, more than a little confused. "When did you quit football? And why doesn't your dad let you talk?" Dominic shook his head, as if to dismiss the subject. 

"Let's just go to the mall. Aida, put your coat on. Angelo, go get our money." Marco helped Aida slip into her bright pink coat, while Angelo ran upstairs to do what he was told. 

After a while, Angelo called down, "Dominic! I can't find it. Come help me." Dom rolled his eyes and went upstairs to help his little brother. 

Hurriedly, while Dom was gone, Marco kneeled so he was about the same height as his little cousin. "Aida, tell me what happened with Dom and your papa," he said quietly, extremely curious at that point. 

Aida's eyes shone excitedly. She loved being the one to tell what she knew. "Well, one day Dommy came home with a bad black eye and a bloody nose. It was icky. Papa asked why he was hurt, and Dommy said that some boys were picking on him. He wouldn't tell me why though. Then a little bit later, Dommy told my papa something real bad. Papa whipped him that day, real hard. He used his big black whip too, the one that hurts a lot. Then Dommy had to go to his room for all night." 

Marco looked up at the stairs, making sure the other boys were still out of sight. "Okay, go on." 

"Well the next day, right after breakfast, Papa made Dommy go outside. Then he whipped him again with the same whip. Dommy was crying real hard when he got done, then he had to go back to his room for all day. Then every day after that, Papa whipped Dommy. He told me and Angelo that we weren't allowed to talk to him at first. That was a long time ago though. Papa doesn't whip him a lot anymore." 

Marco sat down, completely stumped. What could he have done to make his father that angry? "What did Dominic say to your papa, Aida?" 

"If you have to know, Marco," said a voice from behind him. Marco whipped around, seeing Dominic standing on the stairs. He felt extremely sheepish, and he opened his mouth to make up an excuse, but Dom cut him off. "If you just have to know," he repeated, "I told my dad that I was gay." 

**Italian Translations:** _ Arresto - Stop   
ritorno qui - come here   
Desiderate essere puniti! Pulite! - Do you wish to be punished! You clean up!   
S� signore - Yes sir   
Buona giornata! - Have a nice day!_

My deepest apologies if those are incorrect. Oh man, Dom's story makes Marco's look like a piece of cake, huh? Sorry if you thought all the new Italian characters were annoying or something. At least it got me back into updating mode. So, review and I will update again! Promise this time! 


End file.
